Dateline: "We're making out, my body in a limbo position..."

We're collecting stories about your most entertaining dates. Send your time-stamped dating stories to dateline@nerve.com; don't forget to include gender and age for you and your date.

Female, 23, copywriter
with
Male, 28, Grad Student

1 a.m. - I've wandered around this bar for an hour or so, and things are looking grim. I suck shreds of lime off the top of my Tecate and head back to the dance floor for a final attempt before I throw in the towel and get my coital-high from whiskey.

1:05 - I walk up to a tall man sporting a thick moustache and start dancing, thinking, "Please, for the love of God."

1:10 - We're making out, my body in a limbo position ‘cause he's leaning down so far — I guess to get his tongue as deep down my throat as possible. I'm rubbing his dick through his pants, 'cause I'm drunk and that's just where my hand ended up.

1:15 - "Do you wanna leave?" he says.

1: 20 - I pull him outside so we can talk at a normal volume and I can decide if he's a murderer. My upper lip is burning from repeatedly being smashed against his Brillo pad moustache. "I think you fucked up my face," I say.

1:23 - He seems nice, and he's attractive, but he's a stranger in a city I don't know too well, so I do a quick background check:

"What's the last movie you saw?"
"Skyfall."

"Do you like your parents?"
"I love my parents."

"What's your middle name?"
"Edward — and I never tell anyone that. Please, come back with me, we don't have to do anything, I just want to get to know you."

"You're so full of shit," I say, but I'm into it.

1:30 - We get in his car. I can't find the seatbelt, so he reaches around and buckles me in. Looking down, I think, "Well, super — maybe I should ask for a booster seat too."

1:45 - We get to his house and hang out with his roommates for a bit. None of them warns me I am in for a slow, painful death, so I figure things are okay. One of his roommates' friends says to him, "Hey man, how's your social life going?" then, looking at me says, "Pretty good, I guess." I feel weird.

2:30 - We go upstairs and watch Purple Rain in his bed, smoking weed. "I hate how into this movie you are," he says. "Why can't you be more into me?" Oh jeez, I think.

2:31 - Contemplate calling my only good friend in Philly to come find me, but we had a lengthy fling that didn't end well, so it doesn't seem worth it.

3:30 - We have sex and his penis is huuuuuuuuuge.

10:00 - I wake up to him making out with my shoulder. My stomach feels beery, so I get up to pee and swish some toothpaste around in my mouth.

10:10 - We have sex again. The skin is practically falling off my upper lip.

10:45 - Now we're just lounging naked and talking. It's kind of nice, even though he doesn't know who David Sedaris is.

10:50 - I put music on. "What's Bandcamp?" he asks. "You don't have to watch it, nothing's going to happen." I mutter. "You're mean," he says, hugging my legs.

12:00 p.m. - While getting dressed I point to a giant bruise on my thigh.
"Did you do that?"
"Maybe."
"My boyfriend's going to see that."
"What!?"
"I'm just kidding, I'm single and alone."

12:15 - We sit on his porch for a while. It's sunny as fuck outside, warm for December, and I think I love Philadelphia.

12:30 - We go to a pizza place that's apparently also the world's largest pizza museum. I guess it doesn't take much to be the world's largest pizza museum. He pays, even though I insist that him buying me a slice renders the previous night prostitution.

1:00 - We go to get coffee and pay separately. I watch him put sugar in the paper cup and feel a weird surge of affection.

1:30 - When we get back to his house, my friends who were at the bar with me last night are waiting outside in their car. As we approach the car, they all start cheering. Well, I guess it had been a while.

Send your time-stamped dating stories to dateline@nerve.com; don't forget to include gender and age for you and your date. Need a date to write about? Meet someone on Nerve.

Commentarium

comments powered by Disqus