My Dating Nightmare: Pushy Guy Who Couldn't Manage His Sexpectations

• Karl asked me to come to his place for the first date.

  

  One of my worst date stories was with a total finance douche.

  I met Karl on Bumble right before NYC imposed quarantine restrictions and it was still acceptable to have unsocially distanced human contact.

  Red flag numero uno was when Karl suggested that I meet him at his Washington Heights apartment (which was quite the trek from my place) for drinks on his balcony.

  Bruh. What is this? Uber vagina? No.

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• His only saving grace? He was 6 foot 4.

  

  I suggested he kindly f*ck off we meet at a more mutually convenient location.

  We ended up at a lovely little bistro and I was able to wipe the slate clean after I saw that he was in fact 6 foot 4 just as his profile promised and even more attractive with a slight air of pompousness.

  Grab a bucket and a mop!

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• He immediately started bragging about how rich he was.

  

  We got to chatting and Karl was the epitome of an NYC finance bro.

  Though Karl was very charming, like any finance bro he had the need to make it abundantly clear that he was loaded.

  "Yeah I don't want to get into politics, but I am a little nervous about how taxes could potentially change if Biden is elected. It really screws over the people who make over $1 million per year."

  Ugh, you poor thing.

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• His property budget was between $3-5, but he didn't like anything enough to spend that much. OKKK bruh.

  

  We then moved on to a conversation about our prospective living situations; How long we have lived in our current neighborhood and where we see ourselves possibly living in the future.

  I mentioned that I had recently purchased my apartment and was leasing out the second bedroom to a college friend.

  This revelation clearly challenged his finance bro animalistic instincts.

  He began talking about how he too is looking to purchase some real estate but has found it difficult to find anything in the $3-5 million range that is to his liking.

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• Karl was boring, but hot AF. I decided I would go back to his and make out.

  

  OK, bro, you're loaded. Got it.

  After several more drinks, Karl invited me back to his apartment to continue our fascinating conversation.

  Though I found his pretentious aura to be absolutely nauseating…he was hot.

  …And I thought it would be fun to make out.

  Girls got needs!

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• We were on his sofa making out, when Karl disappeared into the bathroom.

  

  We settled into his black leather sofa and after a quick nightcap, our little makeout session commenced.

  There was a little heavy petting and my sweater might have come off (tank top still on) but we kept things relatively innocent nonetheless.

  Karl excused himself to go to the bathroom.

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• He came out, with an condom on his erect penis, and all I could do was laugh.

  

  I grabbed my purse and made sure my lipstick wasn't smeared across my face.

  Suddenly Karl exited the bathroom.

  I look up and he was COMPLETELY naked, save for the bright blue condom snuggly wrapped around his erect penis.

  He came back over to the couch and I couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous sight before me.

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• When I told him I didn't want sex, he bitterly asked me to leave.

  

  I made it clear that though we were making out (fully clothed, mind you) on his couch I don't know where he got the notion that I wanted to have sex, and suggested he put his clothes back on.

  "Yeah, you should probably go, too," Karl said, obviously bitter about the blatant rejection.

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• I awkwardly thanked him for dinner. He didn't give a sh*t.

  

  He came out of the bathroom donned in a purple bathrobe and switched on the TV.

  "…OK, well…thanks for dinner!" I said awkwardly.

  "Thanks for wasting my time," he said, fixated on basketball highlights.

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• What. A. D*ck!!!

  

  I exited his apartment and noticed he had already unmatched me on Bumble.

  That, my friends, is one of my absolute worst date stories. You're welcome.

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