Fifteen Stories: Unlikely First Meetings
Stories of first encounters — from awkward to downright rude — that led to something more.
I didn’t know what she looked like before I had sex with her. A friend I'd been sleeping with asked me to come over one night. He also mentioned that this girl would be there and she would probably be up for a threesome. He and I had floated the idea for a while, but we hadn't found the right person.
When I got to his apartment, there was this hot girl sitting on his couch and the men’s Canada vs. Finland hockey game was on TV. Ten minutes later I was under both of them, feeling out how three people making out works. A frenzy of stripping ensued, and we all tried to pile on his twin bed. Crazy acrobatic sex followed. The guy I had been sleeping with felt a little bit left out because this girl and I were more interested each other than in him. I left that night knowing very little more than her name and her love for hockey.
The next day I got her phone number and we started texting like mad, it turned out that we had a lot in common. She lit up my world like nobody I had met before. A few months later we were going steady, though we couldn’t tell a whole lot of people how we met. We had a year of blissful sex and Star Wars jokes before it ended. — Amanda
I'm really shy and in the past have relied heavily on alcohol to make friends in bars and at parties. So when one of my only friends invited me to her best friend's birthday party, and told me the party was completely dry — the birthday girl was a Mormon — I panicked. I went, brought a gift for the birthday girl I'd never met, and braced myself for a lot of sober, stilted, awkward conversations. In place of kegs and red Solo cups, there was a table of candies and baked goods. After being abandoned by the one girl I knew, I spent most of my time hanging around there. That's when I met Tom.
He was also shy, and didn't know anyone but the birthday girl. We started talking, and then things became more comfortable, and slowly but surely things started to get fun. We had so much in common and he was so funny — I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun, completely sober. So as it turns out, I met my boyfriend of two-plus years at a Mormon birthday party. — Alexandra
When I was working as a waitress, I knocked the lid off a pitcher and spilled its contents on my patron’s lap. I frantically applied napkins to the drenched area — which he apparently “liked” despite the icey coldness. He was laughing the entire time and left me a $20 tip and his phone number. I was so embarrassed that I never called him, but he continually returned — always asking for me and always leaving a large tip and his number. Persistence pays off — I eventually called him, and we dated for about fifteen months. — Jamay
His personals ad in the newspaper said "I'm kind of an asshole. I think it's funny when people get mad." And I called him anyway. And then married him. — Erica
We’d been friends in high-school, until he moved away before junior year. The summer after, I went to visit Boston on a college trip, and stayed at his house. He had two beds in his room — I brought a Nalgene bottle of vodka (oh, high school). We got drunk, got into separate beds for about ten minutes, before he came over and joined me. I’d had my suspicions, but we’d never fooled around before. He gave me head enthusiastically for about five or six minutes and then, as I was getting close, gagged and puked all over my chest. In a testament to my teenage libido, we just got in the shower and jerked each other off. In a testament to my ability to forgive, we dated for a year when I moved to Boston for college. — Nick
Apparently, I’d met Katie a hundred times — we grew up in the same town and my cousin was her best friend — but I never remembered her. One night, at a party, I overheard her telling someone that her favorite food was "sandwiches." I walked over — not thinking we’d ever met — and told her that was stupid. “Sandwiches are not a food; they’re a category of food." We ended up getting in a surprisingly heated argument about it, which ended with her saying, “Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree” and me responding “No. I don’t agree. Unless you’d eat a shit sandwich, what you’re saying is stupid." I didn’t even realize I was at a party at her house. She blew up and stormed off. Upshot: I remembered her this time. We’ve been together for three years. — Mike
It might be the worse line ever used: “Hey, my friend really likes Canadian guys," But I was at a bar in Thailand by myself, waiting for a date who, it seemed, wasn’t going to show up. I nodded and he sauntered over. “What makes you think I’m Canadian?” I asked. “I don’t — but American boys usually find that flattering.” I told him I lived in Hong Kong, and he looked taken aback. “Where?” I named a neighborhood. “Oh shit, me too. So much for a fling in a foreign country.” He left a card and walked off. I was annoyed, but intrigued enough by his reckless transparency that I called him when I was back in HK. It didn’t hurt that he was cute. We ended up dating for a year. — Ben
On my morning subway ride, I’d noticed a guy staring at me. He always looked bleary-eyed, like he was coming off a bender, and a little scruffy. He made me feel a bit uncomfortable, but honestly, it was just one more thing in the sea of annoyances that is commuting. After about a month, he came over and said hi… and it turned out we’d gone to high school together, and he’d been mustering the courage to re-introduce himself. Once he said hi, I remembered him and remembered thinking he was cute — apparently, he just wasn't a morning person. I gave him my number, and that was that. — Natasha
I was dating a French guy, when we both lived in the U.S. After we'd been together for three years, he moved back to France. A few months later, I went to visit him. Rather than breaking up with me before I came, he decided to ignore me for the entire trip, until I got the message. Heartbroken, confused, and totally bummed out, I ended up hooking up with his Dutch friend one night before I went home. We kept in touch, and I now live with him in Holland. — Nancy
I was wearing my favorite short skirt, bright pink lipstick and feeling that nausea, a pleasant violation of your guts' personal space. First date! He picked me up in a disheveled gold mini-van that seemed like it was used as a substitute trash can. Empty cans of Monster and Marlboro boxes fell out of the car as I got in. He was wearing a t-shirt, dirty jeans, and an awkward smile, but boy was he dreamy.
Really inappropriate first-date conversation commenced as we headed towards his house. (Oh, didn't you know? In modern dating, strangers' houses are acceptable substitutes for public cafes. I was learning so much!) He’d warned me about his house, and he wasn’t a liar — there were tools and trash everywhere, and the stairs to his room were so rundown I had to hop over a few of them to avoid falling into the basement.
Him. Me. A bedroom. Subtle! Romantic! We watched an old black-and-white movie about a blues man. This was the best part of the date — I do love the blues. And I realized that under all the grime, there was a charming guy, albeit one with no sense of hygiene or finesse.
After the movie we left to get food. I was drunk off the entire bottle of gin he'd brought me (fuck flowers!) The date ended soon thereafter — he acted like a disrespectful piece of shit, I yelled at him, and cried all the way to my apartment. Oddly enough, I saw him again the next day… — Marion
A couple of years ago I met a really cute and charming guy at a party. I asked him out the next weekend, but he texted to apologize — he’d been invited to a costume party and didn’t want to bring me along, afraid he’d get drunk and embarrass me. I thought that was sweet and made plans with friends.
Saturday night, I started to get strange text messages: "Superman is roaming the earth tonight!" Imagining my cute new friend in a superhero costume, I urged him to come around to the club later. Since I wasn’t going to get a real first date, I figured I’d take a hook-up. He didn’t reply. An hour or so later, one of my friends left to go home, only to come back in a minute later. “There’s a guy out there trying to get in but the bouncers won’t let him, because he’s super drunk and wearing a Superman costume…"
Shit. Figuring he was now my responsibility, I left. When I got outside, the bouncers said he’d vomited and wandered off. Relieved, I went home. I heard someone knocking on my door. I had my suspicions but I was too freaked out to have them confirmed, so I went to bed. The next morning, Superman came around again to apologize. So began the strangest relationship I’ve ever had. — Henrike
I met him at a party. I never think I’m as drunk as I am — and so I happily followed him back to his apartment. As we were having sex (I was told this later on), I pulled away saying I didn’t feel well, and vomited off the edge of his bed. He brought me water and a towel, then cleaned up the mess and asked if I was okay. I told him I was all right and wanted to keep going. We lay in the opposite direction and proceeded. Our momentum didn’t stop until the morning. He would pause every once in a while to bring me more water. We ended up dating for a year and a half. — Sarah
Freshman year we had to do all these getting-to-know-you games on our dorm floor. I hated them — I have social anxiety anyway, and name games and twenty questions were not helping. I was homesick and shy, so I started hiding out in the stairwell when we were supposed to gather to play these mind-numbing wastes of time. One time I was hiding out, surfing the web on my phone, when this guy walked in. At first I was worried he was going to try to make me go to the meeting, but he was also looking for an escape. And thus I found the anti-social love of my life. — Hannah
At a bar on St. Patty's Day, a guy named Drew introduced me and asked if I wanted a drink. As we approached the bar, a cheery, drunk Irishman in his 60s told us we looked like a lovely couple. "I can tell you two are really in love with each other!" I leaned into Drew and said, "Oh, isn't that sweet, honey?" and he responded with an arm around my shoulder and a, "Sure, sweetie, isn’t that nice?"
"I'm sure you'll have beautiful babies together." He said. And we lost it, laughing crazily. Drew walked over to the bar to get our drinks and I told the old guy that Drew and I had just met five minutes ago. The Irishman went white and apologized profusely. Drew returned with the drinks, and we spent the rest of the night together laughing with him, and listening to his crazy stories.
Before Drew and I left, the old man told me, "I'll pray that no man every breaks your heart, and if he does, I'll break his neck!" Talk about a memorable first meeting, and a St. Patty’s Day that will be with me always. — Kaeli
I'd actually known of him for a while — we worked at the same college paper, but we never really spoke. The summer after graduation, I went to visit New York, where he grew up, and for some reason I got his number and asked him to show me around. This translated to getting trashed together, and before long he was back in my hotel room. We started making out, messily. Next thing I knew, it was morning. Me: "Did we…?" Him: "Well, you passed out… on top of me." Oh. We started dating a few months later (and we've been together since), but for a long time, I’d meet his friends and they’d be like, “Oh, you’re that guy.” — Jeff
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