One night stands can be a rather enjoyable pastime to an otherwise lonely evening. However, sometimes they don't go quite as planned, and spending the night at home with your cat would have been a far superior decision than lying naked next to a stranger after an awkward session of pleasureless 'love' making. But what good is a trainwreck sex story if no one is there to hear it?! That is why we teamed up with The Single Society to bring you these gloriously terrible dating mishaps such as this one, about a total creeper with absolutely no boundaries or manners to speak of. Enjoy!
I met Jack* online. Jack claimed he was just over six feet tall, so I just accepted the fact that he was probably 5'10. However, this recent dental school graduate had impeccable credentials.
1. Relatively decent looking
2. Well educated
3. Gainfully employed
4. No illegitimate children that he knew of
Why not? Let's give it a whirl.
Jack and I met at a local watering hole for a few cocktails and some pleasantly delightful conversation about our affinity for camping trips outside the city and our mutual disdain for people who cruise in the passing lane.
…seriously though, f*ck those people.
I might add that this was my first date after the quarantine lifted, and my vagina wasn't exactly as picky as it was several months prior to lockdown.
All was going swimmingly until the waitress returned with Jack's credit card after paying the bill.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Carter.* You guys have a great evening," the waitress said as we prepared to depart.
"Doctor," Jack replied. "It's actually 'doctor,' not 'mister,' Jack ostentatiously informed her.
UGH. Really, Jack?! This was going so well, and NOW you have to be an ass hat?
But AGAIN, since my vagina was driving the bus, I suggested we take things back to my apartment.
A few cocktails later, we were going to Pound Town, and I was engaged in some of the worst sex of my life. But really…It was like he was literally trying to pound me into the mattress.
We both fell asleep, and when I awoke in the morning I hopped into the shower whilst Jack got dressed and (thankfully) ready to leave.
When I got out of the shower, Jack was standing over my dining room table, where I had several books, note pads, mail, and other miscellaneous belongings.
After some awkward words and a bumbling embrace alas, Jack was gone.
As promised, Jack texted me later to invite me for dinner — to which I politely declined.
Then I got quite possibly the creepiest, most fucked up text I have ever received.
"It's alright. I just hope you stop feeling like you are riding your sister's coattails, and you stop feeling like you are less important than her."
"I didn't mean to read it. I was just looking at your books, and it fell on the floor and opened up to that page."
Bull. F*cking. Sh*t.
A pile of other things covered my therapy journal.
I told him that he was borderline psychotic and blocked his number immediately.
*Name has been changed to protect the privacy of this tw*t waffle even though he CLEARLY doesn't give a f*ck about anyone else's.
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