The horrors of dating
The days are growing longer and the garish Valentine’s decorations barrage you from every window display. You grumble to yourself, dreading the day and the awful John Jay Valentine’s meal to accompany it.
But, this year you have a date. An actual date! Let’s hope it goes well.
Spectrum asked for you all to send in your dating horror stories and here are some of the submissions we received. You can use them as indicators of how your Valentine’s date is going, or even as a list of suggestions of what to not do on said date.
Last year, I was randomly approached by a guy in Lerner and I decided to give him my number in order to continue living The Motto (it wasn’t called YOLO yet but that was the idea). We made dinner plans for a few days later and it was probably the most bizarre hour and a half of my life. First I heard about how he got this overseas internship, but wasn’t allowed to go because his father thought it was too good to be true and that he was being hired to be a sex slave. After that, he told me that he was told he had the potential to be a professional ballet-dancer and turned it down to come to Columbia. He not-so-casually mentioned that much of his ballet potential was due to the fact that he could hyper-extend his hips by 90 degrees. — Sheila
While on a date at the Hungarian Pastry Shop, the conversation turned to population control. The boy thought that parents should be forced to pay $10,000 to the government for every baby instead of receiving welfare. He also proceeded to criticize my choice of Hungarian, calling it “too hipster.” I was not pleased. — Unhappy at Hungarian
I was at a bar one night downtown (gasp) with friends and met a cute older guy. He got my number and we texted a bit before we finally got dinner at a cool place in the Village. Over appetizers, he told me how many times he’s blacked out. Over the entree, he told me how many women he’s slept with. And over dessert, he told me that his firm paid for his first lap dance at a strip club and billed their client. — Foul
On my very first date with my very first boyfriend in ninth grade, we were sitting on a bench in a park. He kept inching towards me, so I kept talking, because I was extremely nervous, and I figured if I stopped talking he’d kiss me and I had no idea what to do. I asked him all of his siblings’ names, his dogs’ names, his dead dogs’ names, and his middle name. Then I proceeded to explain to him what my name meant, and my middle name, and what I think my last name means even though no one really knows. Finally he leaned in to kiss me and we pecked. I still remember his middle name is Doyle. — DLP
The girl I went out with KILLED the mood by saying, “You’re the architect, design the night,” when I asked her what she wanted to do after we had drinks. #ughbadpickuplines — Not Amused
If your date resembles any of these, don’t be afraid to send them to us. It’s never too late.
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