Everyone has a bad date story. Everyone’s dated losers. It’s inevitable. Can’t be avoided because if you think about the human population, it’s only logical that you date a certain number of frogs before you date a prince.
There’s too many fish in the sea, and for a while I accidentally left my net in the water and caught a lot of ocean trash.
Bad dates are so torturous while you’re on them, but they make great stories once they’re over.
I dated this guy once, about a year younger. I call him the pretentious stingy one, because he didn’t like to pay for anything but really liked going to expensive restaurants. He’d use the excuse “Could you get this one? You know how it’s hard for me.. Since I’m a student and everything.” I’m a f*ckin student too you piece of sh*t.
He also loved correcting people to show how cultured he is. Like the time he suggested we get tapas and I said I didn’t like Spanish food. “It’s Spanish food, not Mexican. It’s different,” he’d say. Did I stutter? Do you have selective hearing? Did I say Mexican?
I think the best part was after we called it quits, months later he told me he loved me through a text. HAHAHAHA WHAT?? We barely dated for a month and what happened?? When, how, who is this?
I was older, I paid for everything, did I remind him of his mother?
Who knows. Only God knows.