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This is a question My Worst Date

I have horrible memories of a blind date where, desperately grabbing something at the last minute, I wore an enormously long scarf so she'd recognise me. I looked like a twat, it was clear she thought so too, and we stood saying nothing for 15 minutes in a pub before running away.

What's your worst date experience?

(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 9:59)
Pages: Popular, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

To Gizmo:
Oh dear, oh dear.

All those chances to get out but you didn't. Sounds to me like you were gagging for it and not repulsed at all. No need to be so ashamed about it :)
(, Sat 23 Oct 2004, 1:48, Reply)
Silly moo
Well I realised she was a dead loss when the Kate winslet lookalike turned out to look more like Dawn French.... Okay, Dawn isnt exactly the worst looking babe in the world, but lets face it, if given the choice between Dawn and Kate, who'd you go for???? Well, she turned up... looking decidedly non Kateish, and let me observe how Fat folded on the female form. Oh how kind. Desperate for some form of escape, I decided to act Geeky, and suggest a session at the Trocadero Segaworld (as it was then!). After spending £10 on tokens for the barf bucket rides, I managed to convince her I wasnt worth dating! Mmm Okay, I told her to fuck off....
(, Sat 23 Oct 2004, 1:16, Reply)
Nice question. Brings back a host of *wonderful* memories...
Indeedy. And apologies for length.

So, anyways; it's my first year of uni, and there's this fan-fucking-tastic lookin' lady who I've been wanting all year but never quite had the balls to say anything too. And it's about 3 weeks til the end of term, and lo and behold, she's stood next to me at the bar. So, it's now or never- so I put my neck out- and it's fantastic. We're chatting for ages, getting on really well and I'm thinkin' things are gonna go somewhere. Anyways, towards the end of the night, I make my move- and am shot down hideously, in that most contrived, painful, "You're a really nice guy, but I just want to be friends- you're just not my type!" way (which, by the way ladies, is infinitely worse than a slap and a drink in the face). So, I stagger off home, very annoyed indeed. So annoyed, in fact, that upon waking the next morning, I start drinking again to drown my sorrows. And continue to drink all day...

So I'm sat in the bar, It's about 9.30pm now, and I've drunk a ludicrous amount, but am still coherent enough, and pretty much in control- because when I'm miserable I find it very hard indeed to get pissed.
And lo and behold, just outside the bar is my lady friend- and it appears she's being bothered by a cadre of 4 or 5 local chavvy twats. And being miserable, I am most definitely up for some ass- kickin. So I go outside, puff my chest out and tell them to fuck off. And all would have been well, except there wasn't just the 4 of them- there was another 5 round the corner. And while I held my own pretty damn well and eventually beat some sense into them, I am by no means left unscathed- particularly as, as we all know, the chav's attack of choice is a well placed foot in the nads. So I'm feeling somewhat vulnerable in my particulars, when alls of a sudden she grabs a handfull of nads, and before I have a chance to scream "DEAR FUCKING CHRIST, WOMAN!!!" she pulls me in close and whispers in my ear "I've changed my mind" and starts humping my leg. All of a sudden, I'm not feeling quite so achy anymore, so we head off to hers. On the way back, however, it becomes apparent that she's somewhat worse for wear, and she asks if we can take a seat at the bus stop. So we sit down, and start necking ferociously. And my god, I'm so damned happy I can almost ignore the immense pain in my nuts.

I know what your thinking. So far, it really hasn't been all that bad. This is true. Unfortunately, this is where it goes somewhat downhill.

She spews into my mouth. Well, I say, "in my mouth", but it more kinda exploded outwards all over both of our faces. And we pull back, and as soon as my nose registers the puke, I vomit all over her glorious cleavage. So, things aren't going great at this point. I decide that it's probably best to call it a night, and it's time to walk her home. But she can't quite get up, so I'm trying to pick her up, but both of us are slippery as hell what with all the spew, and it's prooving somewhat difficult. So I'm stood there trying to wrestle her to her feet, she's groaning and grunting, and who should turn up but her flatmates. To be honest, this bit's all a little hazy, but to cut a long story short, they take her home, and I stagger back to my place.

Wake up the next day, my head is in agony, my favourite shirt is still soaked through with vomit, and worstest of all, my nuts are the size of coconuts. So, being a logical kind of chap, I stay in bed for three days til the swelling has gone down a tad before I venture back out into the real world, and when I eventually do, I notice a lot of dodgy looks coming in my direction. Turns out, that "APPARENTLY", on the night in question, I had got ludicrously drunk, started a fight, thrown up several times on a girl who had almost passed out, and was then found trying to manhandle her onto a bus!!

When I spoke to her, she told me that she knew this wasn't the case, but was too embarrassed to tell anyone, so she let them go on believing I was some creep intent on abducting her.

My reputation has to this day barely recovered. Incidentally, I did eventually forgive her, but on our second date I broke her ankle, so I kinda figured it wasn't to be.

edit: Oh wait, no, it was a friend. Honest.
(, Sat 23 Oct 2004, 0:55, Reply)
Beware chaps, the interweb is a dangerous place...
Recently I decided I have been single long enough to be desperate. I try a well-known and free personals site, start correspondence with a female who makes out she is happy-go-lucky, girly and quite intelligent.

When I go down to Torquay to meet her, it turns out she's ginger (I'd seen a photo that definitely looked blonde), curly haired, thick as pigshit and empty headed. Also - possibly worst - she says "snazzy gumdrops" to everything I say and is blatantly a chav-in-denial. Still, I pretend to myself I'm not shallow and pursue the afternoon, we play crazy golf (actually quite an amusing thing to do on a date; but during which she manages to twat herself with the putter - twice) and then go to find food and drinks. Later we drive somewhere quiet and commence kissing.

Except that she can't. I don't have the widest experience, but she kissed like a chicken pecking at the ground, whereas I've had many compliments for gentle, progressive lipaction. Much clashing of teeth later, I decide that I'd rather go home.

Still, I'm daft enough to volunteer for another 'date' the following Tuesday, in my home town this time. I meet her in the afternoon, we wander about the town a bit then after a few drinks we think we should find some food and she picks McDonalds. (Which is timely, because I was ten seconds away from saying "look, this is never going to work" and fucking off home).

After possibly the most unsatisying meal ever, during which she reasserts for the tenth time "I don't want to get into anything too quickly, I get tempted very easily", proves that she can’t cope with intelligent humour, and strokes my cock through my jeans, we go back to mine to "sit and chat" (her words). So we sit and chat for, oh, all of five minutes before she leans over and kisses me purposefully, groping cock in the process. I'm ashamed to admit at this point that I didn't say 'get off you crazy girl', but joined in the fun. Except that every two minutes (in pauses in pecking) she says "I really don't want to move too fast" before diving in with renewed vigour.

To cut an already long story short, we end up mostly-naked (and to be very shallow, she had great boobs), with her just wearing her pants. Which, frankly, are floral and not-very-nice, which is an excellent reason to try and remove them. Except that’s one step she won’t take. However she will, badly, undo my trousers and explore what’s inside and, when that’s to her satisfaction, pleasure herself (I repeat, I was asking to go down there but she wouldn’t let me) to a ‘finish’.

Blocked her on MSN, stopped replying to increasingly desperate text messages from her. Didn’t mean to be nasty but just couldn’t explain to her without hurting her feelings that she wasn’t really my type, and if she was going to get off in my bed I wanted to be responsible!!
(, Sat 23 Oct 2004, 0:46, Reply)
I hate cartoons
He took me to the cinema to see 'Hercules', the disney cartoon. I hate cartoons. And this one was so bad i would have chewed my arm off to get out of there if it hadn't been clamped under his disturbingly pointy elbow. Worst thing - it was Leicester Sqaure so i'd had to pay about £7 (at a time when tickets in any normal cinema cost about £3.50). And he thought I was crying because of the songs.
(, Sat 23 Oct 2004, 0:26, Reply)
More than I care to remember
1) the girl at school who decided she was going to go out with me on 'a trial basis' when we were 13. For a whole day we allegedly went out,but I never said anything to her as I lost my nerve,and she didn't dare speak to me because I was with all my mates. That lasted a whole afternoon, three years later I took her V plates whilst she was going out with my mate.... oh well.

2)The random phonecalls from an old school friend, I'd moved home and was in the process of splitting up with a girl I'd been with for 3 years,an old friend phoned me up and told me that she'd loved me since we were 15(and at 15 I had a real crush on her although every tuime anything happened she bottled it).We then sort of started seeing each other, on her birthday I went to the pub with her and her mates, spent most of the night being ignored or treated like every other mate as she wanted to 'keep things quiet'. So quiet that she poured a drink over me for putting my arm round her, and then back at her place her best mate Wayne who is gay declares his undying love for her and that he's really bi. Then she walks me home and we shag in a field. The next day Wayne phones me to tell me that its all over(she didn't have the guts to do it herself), until we next go out, then me nad her get off with each other and see each other for a while til I got off with a 16 year old(I was 24 at the time)and stopped calling her.
Teresa you really messed my head up.

No more...the allotment story was posted in the out of my depth page.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 23:43, Reply)
Blast from the past
I'll keep it short, but...

Met an old scool friend in a hideously dodgy bar in Sarf-end, agree to take her out next night. I actually can't remember how as I had lost the ability to speak by then, I asume I nodded. She wasn't that great looking at school, so I asume the beer/whiskey had worked wonders that night.

Turn up next night at her place in my brand new (and swanky at the time) MGF, she comes out and says to me "If I'd known you had money, I'd have fucked you a long time ago". Cue me trying to loose the bint all evening, finally managing to do so at cinema: "I'm just popping out for some popcorn".
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 23:32, Reply)
Internet people.
Oh God, it was terrible.
Well, I had a mate on the internet about 2 years ago, and we got along sortof OK. One day he said he had a college interview in my home city and was coming down for the day. Would I like to meet up? Sure.
I get there, and he is in a suit, and has alot of bags with him. I ask him and he said he might stay. I shrugged it off..
Anyway, he thought it would be such a lovely idea if he took me out for dinner.
He was.. the most boring person.. in.. the world.
And had the most nasal high pitched annoying voice.
Highlights were
"Did you know, that they use SOOOO MUCH hydrogen in hydrogen bombs?! Oh yes.. LOADS! Or else how would they be such a big explosion! Heh! Yeahh..."
"Id like to be in the army! Ld like... Blow things up! Yeahhhh... Oh wow. Yeah... Heh.."

And, he stayed for 4 days as he "forgot to book a hotel."
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 23:31, Reply)
February 29th 2004
is a pretty awful date. I mean, if you get born then you don't get a birthday until you're four years old.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 23:05, Reply)
you think y'all had it bad ...
well this one time i decided to ask this girl i knew out - and it was totally the wrong move, because i actually fancied (and still do kinda) this other girl, but i guess it was my wussy 15 year old way of trying to make up for not having the guts to ask her out and go for this other goodlooking lass instead ...
aaaaanways, i ask her out and she said yes (wow!!!) so im like "dyu mean this" and she said yes again, so i was happy ... about two weeks into our "relationship" and we're in a foreign country on a school trip, down by a lake late at night and ... well ... u can tell what was going thru my mind, unfortunately i said something that wasnt really going thru my mind and made a couple of VERY bad, VERY wrong, VERY never-in-a-million-years-again kind of jokes the sort you dont even tell psychos. so she goes back inside and tells her friends i tried to rape her ... which was taking it a little too far methinks ...
cut a long story short, we sorted it out, and promised never to speak of it again, you know the old saying "what goes on tour stays on tour" well alas at her school (opposite mine, yuss im a boy in case you hadnt worked that out, sorry about being called freakette and all) - at her school they dont really adhere to this and anything that will make for a good rumour goes ... so someone got wind of the fact that i had supposedly tried to rape this gal, and for the next year and a half almost no girl would speak to me ... i tell you, that really sorts out who your friends are.

apologies for length

oh just so you know, we're friends again now me and this girl, and people do actually talk to me without thinking that im a rapist ... if any of you want to see the "Girlfriend Waiver Sheet" ive drafted up as a precaution to future girls i may or may not want to date, drop me a line at [email protected] with GirlWaiverSheet as the subject ... :D
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 23:00, Reply)
Never date a girl who lives on Canvey Island
I almost don't need to explain that, but I will.

Working in a newsagent in Southend, met a girl. Asked her for a date, she said yes. Result! I was 15.

Met her on Canvey Island (shudder) and we went for a walk to the seafront-type area. Ended up doing dirty smooching in one of the shelters by the sea wall.

Everything is going well and she reaches down into my trousers to fondle my man bits.

Sadly, this was late November and there was a biting force 10 gale gusting directly at us. My manhood had decided, quite wisely, that it was far too cold for any of these shennanagins.

Accordingly, my todger had completely disappeared. And I mean completely. It simply wasn't there anymore. To this day I still don't understand quite where it went.

Cue much embarrassment and mumbled apologies.

We only lasted for another week or so. However, her fringe was so heavily lacquered that you could lift it up like a flap, so I don't think I missed out on much. And she lived on Canvey so I think it was something of a fortunate escape.

Apologies for lack of length....
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 22:59, Reply)
Well, whilst out on a date with an exceedingly dense girl..
..her boyfried turns up, hits me several times and drinks my beer. Then to calm things down, she suggests we call it a double date.....yeah.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 22:32, Reply)
Argh, the memories!! =(
I remember in my first year of college, I got my first proper boyfriend. On the start of the second week I was brought to meet his parents.

Parents: "You must be Dan's friend?"
Me: "Boyfriend, actually"
*Awkward silence*
Dan: "I guess now would be the time to tell you I'm gay?"

I left after half an hour of sitting alone in the kitchen whilst they argued in the living-room. Sorry Dan! =(
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 22:28, Reply)
I once went on a blind date with a scouse cripple with calipers.
"I once went on a blind date with a scouse cripple with calipers."

Those bloody scousers really piss me off with their constant victim status.


PS. Vote Tory
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 22:13, Reply)
Actually now I think of it
there was one date that was much, much worse than the one below. Maybe I had blocked it from my memory. There was a girl that I had loved since I was 11. She was perfect, and yes, I did eventually pluck up the courage to ask her out.

The date started out bad, by running into a twunt of a mate who insisted on criticising my every move. Thankfully, I quickly lost him, and we headed onto our destination... the dark recesses of the local cinema.

And nowt happened. I was 14, and I was scared... what do you expect from me?

Thing is, next time I see the twunt of the mate, he has to tell me how he saw the then love of my life playing mouth hockey at the same fillum I took her to, with another guy, whom he took great pleasure in describing for me.

Of course, I confront her.... she claims it was her brother. An obvious lie, I feel, until I meet the sibling. Matches the twunts descriptions to the T.

Got out. Quick.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 21:59, Reply)
little girl, big sushi
The worst date I've ever been on involved a really cute, really, really petite girl, and a sushi bar. Said girl called me up one evening, and asked if I'd had dinner. I said that I hadn't, and we went out for sushi.
Sushi arrives, we start eating, and I notice that rather than eating one piece all at once--which is the only way I've ever seen people eat sushi--my date is using her chopsticks to turn each piece into mush, and then nibbling on the dime-sized remnants.
I ask if she's ever eaten sushi before and she says no. Well, I say, you should all-at-once-it, like this, and I pick up a piece, and chow it down.
My date then attempts this procedure. Disaster.
She struggles to fit the whole piece in her mouth, and when she finally does, she gags on it, covers her mouth with her napkin, runs to the bathroom, and doesn't come back for at least fifteen minutes.
She sat back down and apologized, saying how embarassed she was, and that she couldn't believe she couldn't fit a non-mushed piece of sushi in her mouth all at once.
I assured her that it wasn't a big deal, even though I did spend the rest of the date shamelessly wondering how embarassed I'd be if we'd discovered this particular uniqueness of hers under more intimate circumstances.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 21:54, Reply)
This isn't remotely funny or interesting...
...so unless you're really bored stop reading now.

My worst date was a one night stand that went horribly horribly wrong. We've been together almost five years now, and just bought a house together. Everything's fine, thank you.

I warned you.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 21:52, Reply)
had to be....
Gastroentiritus on valentines day in a restaurant with my wife. lots of couples enjoying their romantic meals, my wife sat by herself as I heaved up my intestines in the bogs.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 21:47, Reply)
My worst atempt at the dating game
I took a lass to see American Psycho ( the 1st date) at the cinema. I was determined to see the film although see wanted to see summat girly. I picked her up in my clapped out Ford Escort. We arrived at the cinema in a cloud of exhaust fumes. I now know that my constant cheering at every brutal murder and wooping at the chainsaw scene caused her to think the worst and she never replied to any of my answer phone messages or texts again.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 21:43, Reply)
About half a year ago
I went out on a "date" to the city centre with this girl, who happens to be my ex-girlfriend's best friend and who went out with my best friend who later went out with my ex's arch nemesis who tried to get it on with me. *goes crosseyed*

Aaaaaaanyway, it was atrocious. We walked around in silence, every time I said "Hey, wanna go to the cinema?", she'd go "fun" in the most sarcastic tone ever. "Want to get some coffee and a muffin?".. "fun.."

She can get to fuck, the wonkey fringed, titless, squashed fucked up hamster faced little bitch. *grumble grumble*

Ended up smacking her in the face with a cinder block, and scattering her in the mersey.

*Last bit may not be all of the truth.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 21:28, Reply)
I dumped him the next day
Went on a date with a hairdresser once.

About 1 hour into dinner he tells me he loves me.

Effing freak.

So I call him the next day and dump him on the phone while he's between clients.

Since then I make it a personal goal never trust my hair to emotionally needy hairdressers in tears, just in case.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 21:16, Reply)
15 years old...
Met a good-looking girl at a house party, so asked her out (even though we have very little in common). Next weekend we go to the cinema, and, being a 15-year old, I go for it. Start off snogging, 20 minutes later I was getting into it and groping her a bit. She told me the next day that she didn't want to go out again, 'just because'.

What she told her mates is that I was trying to take her bra off in the cinema. I don't know if she genuinely believes this herself, but I can promise that it is not true. Luckily I have just about managed to restore my reputation with her friends, though neither of us have a desire to talk to each other. I'm sure she still calls me 'bra-guy' behind my back.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 21:13, Reply)
Not as bad as some of yours...
Last Hallowe'en, I dated a short girl with rather large norks. We went to a Hallowe'en party, and she began to drink. Well, about an hour later, she managed to drop an iced cupcake onto her chest, leaving a large splotch of orange-&-white icing there on her right breast. She didn't notice, and I didn't want to point it out, since we had just met a few days before, and didn't want her to think I was making a pass at her.

Well, a little while later, she had vanished on me, but when she came back, her icing was smeared, and I noticed three other guys (all in black Hallowe'en costumes) with icing smeared on them - right about where it should be had my date embraced them with icing all over herself.

And one with icing smears down around his left thigh.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 21:13, Reply)
"I really, REALLY need a shit"
Maybe it was sympathy...

There was this drop dead stunner that I'd been after for ages and she finally agreed to go out with me after weeks of pestering. A few days before we were due to meet at the swankiest bar in town I came down with a chest infection so shot myself down the doc's quick smart in hope of a speedy recovery. If you've ever had a chest infection you'll know that the prescription remedy is Amoxycilin. You'll also know that the side effect of said medicine is the worst case of diahorrea imaginable. I made a point of not eating anything before we met and, since i got there first, grabbed a table within a quick dash of the lavs. Just in case.
She turned up looking stunning and as I stood up to kiss her on the cheek I felt some worrying rumblings down below. Not wanting to start the date with "Excuse me a sec, I just need to pop to the loo". I ignore it as best I can and nip to the bar to get her a drink. The rumblings had turned into cramps by now and it must have been affecting my walk. I do the "I really need the toilet" walk back to the table and sit down. We get chatting and, aside from my liquefied guts trying to explode out of my ass, the date's going pretty well. Then the most painful cramps in the world hit my stomach and double me over at the table. She asks if I'm okay and all I can manage is a red-faced "NNNNGHHHH!!!" as I battle against the date ending in a trouser-full of brown slop. The pain's unbearable, I can barely move. She asks if I need help and I muster all my strength, haul myself to my feet and proclaim "I'm fine. I just really, REALLY need a shit" and bolt for the lavs. I return red-faced a while later and she's there giggling. I've never been so embarrassed in my life but she turns my world by saying it's the funniest date she's ever been on.

Two years later and she's still Mrs. Jimlad. :o)
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 13:47, Reply)
Short and unsweet
My sister once went out with a rather tasty young man who said that he would fix me up with one of his mates. As I was single and a bit bored I thought 'what the hey - he's bound to have tons of equally good looking buddies.' Arranged a meeting outside a tube station (which I will never visit again in my life) and as with all blind dates stood there looking sideways at various fine men praying that he would be the one. After waiting for 5 minutes I turned round to see a short, fat, balding guy wearing what must have been a hand me down cardigan from his dad. And yep - you've guessed it - that was my 'date'. Felt a bit sorry for the guy so agreed to go and have a cup of tea with him round at his place (it was Sunday afternoon after all) and shortly after arriving at his house he decided it would be a good idea to lock the door, hide the keys and tell me that I was so nice he didn't think he could ever let me leave. An hour later and I am trying to suggest various activites to do OUTSIDE without trying to let him smell the fear on me and hack me to death with a kitchen knife. Two hours later I thought stuff the hacking to death, told him that he was the biggest twunt I had ever met and if he didn't let me out I would kick him to death. Needless to say I escaped alive and would rather turn into a mad cat woman and die sad and lonely than go on another blind date.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 13:44, Reply)
well this one time
i went on a date with a guy who owned am ice cream van, blah blah music ice cream.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 13:30, Reply)
Notwork Rail
met a bird online and, thanks to james dean bradfield, had a plus one going spare for reading festival. cue outrageously slick dating opportunity.

met her at paddington and spent forty five minutes some 50 yards out of platform 5 due to 'engineering difficulties'. without windows or aircon the midday sun's effects were only overshadowed by monsieur bradfield's sieve like memory and the promoter's rescheduling of the strokes.

sweat, blood and tears. in that order.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 13:28, Reply)
Worst date? Hmmm, only one for me...
End of semester Art College party, lots of serious young stick insects in 'individual' states of dress, trying desperately to look
edgy and cool. I was invited to attend by a smashing friend, who wanted to set me up with one of the few good looking and not too egotistical eligible lads.

I was introduced and we then spent most of the night waiting to board the tourist type cruise boat which was to take our happy group up and down the Brisbane River for several hours. Boat was delayed, so much drinking ensued in the interim. My date was beginning to slur slightly by this stage, but was still coherent and charming, and the night was young.

Cruise boat finally arrives, we all board, and finally, I get to drag my date to the upper deck for some fresh air. By now, on a steady intake of Strongbow cider, he has abandoned the charming manner and is beginning to give off that slightly desperate air that is the result of trying too hard to be cool. We are sitting side by side, when he leans over for a quick kiss, then breaks away, says "Pardon me," then without missing a beat or removing his arm from my breasticular regions, he leans two feet to the right, vomits copiously over the side of the boat onto the deck and patrons below, wipes his mouth, and amid the screams of dismay and disgust from the patrons below, turns back to me, partially pre-digested finger food liberally adorning his gothic attire, ready to re-apply his aromatic mouth to mine. At that point, I excused myself, and I spent the rest of the evening trying to dodge him, as he followed me all over the boat, asking if people had seen me, and only stopping briefly to spew every ten minutes or so. I was like a prey animal, hiding and trying desperately to keep one step ahead of the predator.

He was still topping himself up with Strongbow as he lurched about the vessel, so the chances of me allowing him to get close enough again were very, very slim indeed.

Moments before the boat docked and I could escape, he leapt off the deck of the boat in a manly display of athleticism, failing to reach the jetty by a good metre or so. I made sure he was fished out in one piece before fleeing the scene. I ended up going to the casino alone and winning enough cash from a poker machine to more than compensate me for the lost enjoyment of the evening.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 13:19, Reply)
Gaylord Fokker
Back in the day when I was a young, free, single, pisshead I pulled this girl in my local and ended up going back to hers. Much alcohol had been imbibed so we got down to it right there on her front room floor. Clothes scattered everywhere, sweaty, drunken monkey-sex. Fantastic. Rather than face a cold walk home ('Twas January) I gratefully accept her offer to stay the night and off to bed we go.
We wake the next afternoon somewhat fuzzy headed and bollock naked in her bed. She starts pestering me to go downstairs to feed the cats, get the milk in and make a cup of tea (this was a sign of things to come, read on...). I protest saying that it's freezing cold, I'm stark naked and my clothes are all downstairs on her front room floor. Eventually, with the promise of more hanky panky on my return, she persuades me to trek downstairs. To cover my nakedness I grab the only item of clothing I can see - a black dress. She started smirking when I put it on but I didn't care. The sight of a six-foot guy with a shaved head in a little black dress may be funny but I was getting some when I got back.
Anyway, I find the kitchen and feed the cats and walk off to the front door to get the milk, stopping only to put my boots on on the way (it was January and my feet were freezing). I open the door and bend down for the milk when I hear something behind me. I turn around just in time to see my new lover running towards me with a grin on her face and have just enough time to register that she has cum in her hair from last night before she shoves me full force onto the icy pavement and shuts the door. It's freezing cold, I'm wearing a dress and my boots and hammering on the door to be let in and I can hear her giggling behind the door like it's the funniest joke ever. This went on for about 5 minutes before a car pulled up and I suddenly remember her saying last night that she had to be up in time to cook dinner because her parents were coming round. I stop hammering and tell her her folks are here but she thinks it's a ruse. Until she hears her dad, suddenly confronted by a cross-dressing skinhead kicking his daughter's door down, bellow "what the hell are you doing?". The door flies open and I get introduced to what would become my girlfriend's mum and dad while I'm wearing a dress and combat boots. I thought it couldn't get any worse till her mum breezed passed me and said "Rhian, is that semen in your hair?"

Amazingly we lasted a year but her parents did call me Gaylord for the entire duration in reference to Ben Stiller's character in 'Meet The Parents'. Then this happened....
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 13:14, Reply)
a week before i went on a date with this gorgeous girl, I had an operate on my arm, nothing serious. I was given medication which made me constipated. Anyway, date went well, back to hers, in bed, no sh&gging though as its not good on a first date apparently. during the night i had a dream i was on the bog, i assume this was due to the medication that had made me constipated. i woke myself, and her, up with the most god almighty trump known to man. thankfully i did not follow through. i could have died with embarrassment. we only saw each other for a month and i never got my end away. worst end to a date ever.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2004, 13:10, Reply)

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