Five Stories: Disturbingly Bad First Dates

Bed bugs, Bibles, bigotry, and the terrible evenings they caused.

Erin Kelly

By Nerve Readers
 

The shape of my earlobe

I worked as a cocktail waitress at a swanky downtown hotel and had gotten into the habit of ignoring the portly, old businessmen and their propositions. But, on occasion, I've met people closer to my age and body type and gone on a few semi-successful dates. Matt was staying in the hotel and tipped me well on his Stella. Later that same evening, he came back down to the bar and we got to talking. He actually lived in my neighborhood in Brooklyn, but told me he enjoyed taking a little Manhattan vacation every now and again. He was tall, handsome, and apparently had a good enough job to allow him to pop over for luxury stays in the city, so when he asked me on a date I said yes. Little did I know that this svelte, sweet-talking fellow was going to provide me with the single worst date in my entire romantic life.

We met at a bar, as is customary. Although I'm not a big drinker — and I never drink on first dates — I'm used to sitting at a bar and getting to know someone. Usually it's not a big deal, but when I ordered sweet tea with Matt, he began grilling me on why I didn't drink and encouraging me to have something, all while drinking heavily himself. I was already irritated, so I suggested that we head to the movies, as was the plan. We set off to the theater, only to realize that he hadn't looked up movie times. By the time we got there, the theater was closed. 

But, I thought, I'd write it off as a simple mistake. He then suggested we go to a great sushi place he knew. Since I was starving I agreed. When we got there, it turned out to be a total dive, not the sort of place you hike across town for. And the kitchen was closing. He ordered us one small dish and tried to order two glasses of sake. I politely reminded him, again, that I didn't drink. He was already a bit tipsy, but by the time I finished my sashimi, he was full-on drunk. He began his drunken confessions by explaining that he was once in Alcoholics Anonymous, but had decided it was a cult and that he didn't need it. Watching him down his fourth sake, I wasn't so sure.

He told me about his days as a party promoter, bragging about his rock-star lifestyle and repeatedly referring to himself in the third person. Then, he made one of the creepiest confessions I've ever heard. He leaned over and touched my earlobe, saying, "The shape of your earlobe, I noticed it the first time I saw you. Every single girl I've ever been in love with has had an earlobe of that shape. This is something special." At this point, I was  bored, annoyed, and freaked out. I was also hungry and my feet hurt from walking around.

He tried to do this weird embracing, cuddle thing as we walked out. It then became obvious that he had chosen this "great sushi place" because it was right under his friend's apartment, where he had been crashing. I did not go up. Oh, and in his drunkenness he had let it slip that he wasn't residing at the hotel for a quick weekend getaway, but because his apartment was being fumigated. Yeah, he had bedbugs. I finally escaped into a cab and felt a wave of relief at that disastrous date finally coming to an end. He called and text messaged me nearly every day for the next two weeks. Needless to say, I never saw him again. — Kelly Bourdet

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