I usually don't go out with a guy I meet online before I see what he looks like. I usually ask to do camera to camera, but this time, I looked like a mess, so I exchanged numbers with one guy and we talked for 10 minutes through the phone. He seemed nice, so we arranged to meet the next day for coffee. We decided to meet in Jabal Amman in front of this nice, old café.
My type, blue-collar younger guys, was not paying any dividends. So, while at Starbucks I decided to go against my better instincts and chat with a more uptown kind of guy. He joked that he was in the witness protection program. Though I wasn't sure it was right for me, we set up a date. But that was before Google informed me that he might have been joking about witness protection...
On a whim a few years ago, my friend Dave and I posted a YouTube video in which we invited women to double date us. In the months to follow, we would embark on over 200 double dates together, many of which would provide us with horror stories for our live comedy show. However, none were a bigger disappointment than one I experienced on my own.
"I am not going on this trip as some sort of half-baked internet blind date and I know you're not going on it to get into my pants." Thus spoke my road trip companion in a last-minute attempt to calm my nerves over what I was increasingly realizing sounded like a hare-brained plan—spend a week driving across the country with a man I knew only through social media.
When I first started online dating after my divorce at age 39, I was terrified. Not because I hadn't been on a date in almost two decades. Not because I hadn't so much as brushed up against a man in over a year, let alone been intimate with one. And not because I was worried about inadvertently hooking up with a serial killer. What I was terrified of was that people I knew would see my online profile and think I was a desperate loser.
First dates are a little dicey. Doubly so when it's a blind date. Make it a double date on top of it and you're talking about four times the dicey-ness. And, as far as dicey goes, it goes off the charts when it turns out that you know your friend's date. Know him very well.
It was a classic set-up, my friend's boyfriend's friend needed a date. The two guys showed up and were already a little boozy. My friend and her boyfriend sneaked off and I was left with a drunk fella. And then his vomiting. I decided not to move to the second phase of the date and somehow I was the bad guy...
With the holiday season upon us, you obviously want to get your girlfriend or boyfriend something to show them you care, but you've only been dating for a few months.
In 2005, I briefly worked as a real estate agent in New York City, renting downtown luxury apartments to European pioneers, entitled college grads from Long Island, and investment bankers with trophy wives. The job, which I took merely as a means to support myself while pursuing more "noble" efforts as a rock musician, was truly f'ing miserable.
Sometimes the seemingly perfect guy is up to no good. It starts with house parties, long phone calls and fancy dinners, but then it ends with a stolen iPod. No one said dating in Amman, Jordan was easy.
A first-time user of PlentyOfFish.com has a rough start of it. After drinking many, many beers, a first date becomes weirdly jealous, starts crying and refuses to leave her house. First dates and online dating rarely go this wrong.
Recently I went out with a friend of a friend. He was English. I mean, how bad could he be? But that was before he showed up, late and unshowered, and moved our date from a 5-star restaurant to a coffee shop. After making suggestive comments about my chest, he popped his feet into my lap and said to tickle away. Yes, these are the men I date.
When I was living in NYC in early 2009 I met this cop from Queens at a jazz bar I used to sing in. I wasn't so sure if there was much of an attraction physically speaking but I was diggin' the whole cop thing. But a boring dinner gave way to some extreme pushiness, disparaging comments about my neighborhood and insults to my neighbor.
For weeks, I'd been planning to dress as Smurfette. I couldn't admit to myself I only chose the costume because my ex-fling once mentioned it'd be cute. One of my summer dresses reminded him of the impish blue character. I never realistically thought he would come back to me. I wasn't even sure I wanted him to, but I did want him to regret his decision.
The thought, "Oh God, he has to hate me," is never a good sign during a first date. But when you're two hours late and he hasn't responded to your last text, it's not possible to think of anything else. A set of circumstances conspired to make me late to a date and when I got there, my date had been drinking heavily, very heavily. What happens when chronic lateness and too much booze get in the way of really good thing.