We’re collecting stories about your most entertaining dates. Send your time-stamped dating stories to firstname.lastname@example.org; don’t forget to include gender and age for you and your date.
8:45 – He texts me and asks me what my plans for the night are. It’s a Thursday and I just finished teaching a particularly messy kids’ pottery and painting class. On my way back downtown from the suburbs, I figured he was just being polite. We worked together and I was 95% sure he hated me. “Nothing really, how about you?”
8:47 – “My friend’s girlfriend just finished Second City and she’s doing an open mic night at a spot Uptown. Wanna come?”
8:48 – “Sure, what time?”
8:49 – “15 minutes.” Fuck. Still 25 minutes away from the city and far from date-ready, I’m doing at least 100 down the Kennedy. What the fuck do I wear to an open mic? Shorts. Off-white sweater, black bra. Wedges. Creative bobby pinning hides the paint in my hair. I Uber it to his apartment.
9:10 – He’s waiting outside his apartment with a cab. I pull up in a black Mercedes. Great, now he thinks I’m pretentious.
9:30 – First round of drinks on him. He’s on the booth side of the tables next to a bunch of his friends, including his roommate whom I’ve met/don’t like. I’m on a stool across the table. I quickly learn that there’s no cute way to sit on a stool. I chug my first drink and buy myself another.
9:31 – “Wanna put this on your boyfriend’s tab or is he done paying?” “He’s not my boyfriend, we work together. Give me something sweet. And strong. Surprise me.”
9:50 – “Come sit next to me, there’s room. I can’t hear you.”
10:13 – Onto my fourth drink. I’m drunk. He puts his hand on the inside of my upper thigh. I continue to word-vomit. He makes me so nervous.
10:15 – He kisses me mid-sentence. His tongue is rough. “I should have done this months ago.”
10:40 – Jesus Christ, have we really been making out in the middle of a bar for the past half-hour? People are probably staring. I go get myself another drink, he’s in the bathroom. I text my best friend, trying to avoid eye contact with the bartender. “Not your boyfriend, huh?” Asshole.
11:45 – His friends are all leaving. We stay. I look around the room for the first time since we walked in, it was an odd crowd. Mostly hipsters. I was easily the youngest one in there.
11:50 – Is it illegal to have sex in a cab? I’m pretty sure it’s illegal.
12:05 – I’m on my period. Fuck. Would it be slutty to give him a blow job on the first date? Was that a date? If I wasn’t on my period I would totally have fucked him. That would be slutty. Right? Fresh out of a six-year relationship, I don’t know what I’m doing. Whatever.
5:14 – I have to be at work in 6 hours. I can’t go to work like this. “Just sleep over, it’s fine. You can walk to work from here.” I call an Uber and make plans to avoid him at work.
Two years later, I’m planning our wedding and taking care of our seven-month-old.