First published in the United States in 2013
by Chronicle Books.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2012
by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd.
Text copyright © 2012 by Rhodri Marsden.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any from without permission from the publisher.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available
ISBN 978-1-4521-3205-1
Designed and illustrated by Walter C. Baumann
All tweets are associated exclusively with Twitter, Inc.
Chronicle Books LLC
680 Second Street
San Francisco, California 94107
www.chroniclebooks.com
When it goes well, a date can be exhilarating.
An improbable spark suddenly fires, both of you realize that you have a connection above and beyond your favorite brand of dishwasher tablet, and invisible hearts start popping in the air around you.
But it’s not always like that. In fact, if we’re going to be honest, it’s hardly ever like that. And the more dates we go on (via newspaper ads, Internet sites, speed dating, and inappropriate blind dates set up by friends predisposed to cruelty) the higher the failure rate. That’s not me being cynical, I promise—it’s just statistics.
Yes, in theory, a period of relentless dating might improve your chances of meeting someone wonderful, but it mainly establishes a long line of people for you to spend disappointing evenings with while you wait for the right person to come along.
There’s a positive outcome to emerge from the crammed diary of the hopeful singleton, however, and that’s the extraordinary stockpile of anecdotes detailing all the times it went badly wrong. Whether you disliked the other person, they disliked you, or you found some kind of grim solidarity in your mutual loathing, that unique and acute social discomfort becomes seared into your memory. The stories become dinner party staples as your grim experiences, mellowed by time, transform into comedy gold.
As I walked down the A24 in Clapham one Tuesday evening last year, I passed a bar that brought one dating memory of my own flooding back. It was from 2002—the very early days of Internet dating, a thrilling new social experiment as yet untainted by despondent cynicism. This girl and I quickly realized that we had nothing in common, save for speaking English and being a bit lonely. We were doomed to spend a long, excruciating evening together, and the silences became yawning chasms. She was from Wigan, a town in Greater Manchester, and I actually heard myself saying, in a moment of barrel-scraping desperation: “So, what’s Wigan like, then?”
I’d gotten into the habit of posting idle thoughts on Twitter rather than keeping them to myself, and that’s what I did that Tuesday evening: the story of my bad date, cut back to 140 characters. A couple of people sent theirs back, and I reposted them. Soon, the combined wit of the Twitter community generated a glorious stream of tweets, a cathartic explosion of storytelling. Stripped of extraneous detail, they became brilliantly funny one-liners, haiku-like in their beauty. This collection of stories went viral; by the end of that week a quarter of a million people across the world had come to read them and, in many cases, share their own.
A couple of trends immediately became apparent. First, there were far more stories from women than from men. I’m still not sure whether this is because women are more open about revealing their bad romantic experiences, or that men are just more badly behaved. But judging by the evidence contained within this book, I have a sneaking suspicion it’s the latter. Second, the stories from Britain seemed, to me at least, to be the most potent—perhaps because we’re more socially inept, more apologetic, more likely to put up with rudeness and idiocy than our North American, Australian, or South African counterparts.
Some of the tales in this book are simply funny, some are shocking, but they’re all laced with poignancy. All the storytellers went on their dates with the most honorable of intentions: they were lured by the promise of eventual romance, be it light jazz and croissants on a Sunday morning, or leaping out of a plane strapped to someone gorgeous. The search for love might well be a lottery, or stacked Jenga-like against us, but we always remain hopeful; we’d all like to be with someone, but that person simply hasn’t showed up yet. Dating is about hope. And when hope is cruelly shattered, a wistful tale is born.
Of course, if you meet someone fantastic, there isn’t really much of a story to tell. What you’re doing and where you’re doing it almost fails to register. The evening slips by as effortless conversation flows, synergy is established, moments of hysterical mirth are shared. But most of the time, dating is—as a friend of mine once said—a load of single people, of varying degrees of loneliness, blundering about with their arms out hoping to bump into someone. I fervently believe that we’ll all blunder and subsequently bump into the right person eventually. But in the meantime, as we keep blundering, let’s keep reassuring each other that it’s not us with the problem. It’s them.
Key
@CliveTheBudgie
It was going well until we got to the club, she started doing what can only be described as the “pooing on the floor” dance.
@Douglasnisti
We disagreed about something superfluous. She said “This relationship is not working, you have to agree to everything I say.”
@Jamesisaburyfan
She asked to see my iPod. After the click of the scroll wheel and raised eyebrows, we parted.
@Knitlucy
He said: “From your photo I thought you were too good for me, I’m glad to see that you’ve got flaws.” Then he listed them.
@_Sarah_Woolley
He told me my hands were “so beautiful” then he said the painting was “so beautiful” then a lamp, a book cover. He was stoned.
@Electroweb
A 23 yr old girl. “I think for my age I’ve achieved a hell of a lot.” she said. Then talked for three hours about her internet business.
#THE SNAPPY DRESSER
@eirlysbellin
I went on a blind date wearing a bright pink blazer and jeans. I turned up to find him wearing exactly the same thing.
In theory, there’s someone for everyone. But because first impressions count, there may not be someone for that person who shows up for a date wearing overalls. We make dress code blunders almost despite ourselves, as nerves skew our idea of what constitutes sensible clothing. We might spend hours getting ready and still make elementary mistakes, like leaving the house wearing moccasins, or sweatbands, or chain mail, or all three. Overthinking an outfit might cause someone to turn up bedecked in Hawaiian garlands, or sporting seventeenth-century French court attire. They should really have asked someone who wasn’t suffering from acute anxiety whether they looked all right. And maybe glued the sole of their shoe back on.
@Ms_RH
He asked me: “If you had to choose, who would you rather sleep with—your mom or your dad?”
Birdy246
He read me a four-page poem about a girl who wasn’t me. He read it twice as I’d failed to give it enough attention the first time.
@stevefarris24
Went back to her place. Dave Matthews pictures all over her apartment. She showed me her shoulder tattoo: Dave Matthews. I left.
@Feliskitty
After the date I rejected him. He burst into tears, said he loved me, then turned up outside my work, crying, every day for a week.
@_ _Tahlia_
We watched Alien vs. Predator. Turns to me and says “I don’t believe women should be in a position of power.”
@dabarbarian
My date told me I looked quite attractive, from a certain angle.
@elle_c_emm
Met him at his apartment. He opened the door in a blue-check fleece dressing gown and an electronic tag on his ankle. “Shall we just stay in?”
@lizhotchin
He told me he found it odd to be dating someone “a couple of rungs down the ladder to what he was used to.”
@Sweetlittlehugs
He spent the entire date explaining how he would “do” me on our next date, complete with body motions. It was porno charades.
oddshellfish
He talked nonstop of how he suspected that his uncle had killed his aunt, he just needed proof.
#THE ARROGANT SCUMBAG
@AFMJen
“I don’t want to go out with you again, but we can be friends. Maybe grab a drink and I can tell you why I don’t want to date you.”
A date is a delicate balancing act. If one person seems far more eager than the other, the whole thing can be irretrievably ruined. But the arrogant scumbag dooms things right away by operating on the assumption that you’re thrilled to be in their company, and will make this abundantly clear by scolding you like an errant intern who’s behind on their photocopying duties. If they don’t like you, they’ll go through the process of letting you know why, oblivious to their own failings, which are lit up in neon and flashing rapidly. If they do like you, they’ll patiently explain the terms under which they’d be prepared to engage in a relationship. “You’ll be pleased to hear that I’ve accepted you for the vacant post.” Um, forget it.
@emma_withers
I once told a date a joke and delivered the punchline just as he took a sip of wine. He spat a whole mouthful of Chianti in my face.
@amsterdammed
A pilot. He said he was married but flew to Amsterdam sometimes, and was interested in me because I was “geographically convenient.”
@WebSquirrel
Both me and her turned up at different entrances, stood there for 30 minutes before going home assuming the other had stood us up.
@Archtickfocks
Took a cute guy home and slept with him. In the morning I went for a shower, and came out to find him masturbating into my shoe.
@angelwilkinson
He asked me “How long until you get the menopause?”
@sazzybeena
I accidentally texted “This one’s a bit cocky” to the date who was buying me a drink, instead of my friend.
@sazzybeena
He leant across the table, dragged his fingers through my hair and said “Don’t EVER cut your hair.”
@susieblues
Halfway through the first date, he leaned forward and asked me if he was making me “gooey” in my “wee-wee.”
@natashsa
My blind date had said he looked like Harrison Ford. Me: “You look nothing like Harrison Ford.” Him: “Shall we leave it then?”
@kwoodate
We went on a hike in the woods. He killed a bunch of tadpoles, and farted when he tried to pull a stick out of some mud.
@chrisbell
First date with a woman, who got really angry when people asked if we were on a first date. We’re both now married to people called Helen.
#THE MAMA’S BOY
@eirlysbellin
I was once asked if I would, and I quote, “rub my bottom like Mommy used to.”
There are those in the dating pool who haven’t managed to sever the parental umbilical cord and are struggling with their identity as an adult. There are a few signs to look out for: for example, they may turn up carrying plush toys, insist on drinking through a novelty straw, and depart on a tricycle. For once, the most likely offenders in this category are women—Daddy’s Girls tend to make liberal use of the words “itsy-bitsy” or “drinkie-winkie,” or phrases like “I have to go tinkle” that would chill any normal person to the core. But men are by no means off the hook; be exceptionally wary of the ones who shout “Mommy!” at inopportune moments, such as when the bill arrives, when trying to hail a taxi, or at the point of orgasm.
@morris_sophie
He asked me if I needed the loo, as I’d crossed my legs. Then he told a story about him attacking a guy in the school showers with his own shit.
@MimiVonPeach
Met a guy for lunch. He phoned 43 times that evening, rang directory assistance, got my parents’ number and asked my Dad if he could marry me.
#THE OVERBEARING DICTATOR
@Fanny_McTwanny
He told me how to manage my finances. When I said I’d make my own decisions, he screamed at me and stormed off the bus.
It’s normal for slightly dominant or submissive roles to develop within the context of a long-term relationship, but to start ruling with an iron rod within minutes of meeting someone is a bad assumption to make, and a dangerous strategy to take. Phrases indicating a potential boot-camp scenario include “No, not like that, like this,” “I would have appreciated being consulted in advance,” and the classic “We will either do things my way, or not at all.” Grammar pedants would do well to rein in their compulsion to correct “that” for “which” (or “less” for “fewer”) until some kind of rapport has been firmly established. Persistent criticism of the most undermining kind should be saved up for the second day of your honeymoon.
@fluffysuse
He turned up at my place carrying a man-bag. He made constant references to his hand-axe that he said would fit perfectly in said bag.
@DiamondScribble
I mentioned that I like Anchorman, so he started to quote whole scenes. Standing up, in a quiet pub. I no longer like Anchorman.
@FM_Mandog
He asked me if I believed in “Stockholm Syndrome.”
@alisonrevitt
He wanted me to pretend we’d been a couple for years, then demanded “Tell me you love me!”
@TakinOutTheTash
“I work in oil and gas, what do you do?” “I work for an environmental protection agency.” “Oh.”
@Ms_Panther
We bumped into my dad. He took one look at my date, looked at me and said: “You’ve got to be joking, Lorna.”
#THE BLATANT LIAR
@chiller
He pretended to be a doctor. When busted, he pretended that he was a secret agent posing as a doctor.
Internet dating doesn’t encourage truthfulness. Competitive site members describe themselves as younger, taller, thinner, more widely travelled, more successful and more into bungee jumping than they actually are—and the first date is where the wheels start to come off. While attempting to ingratiate themselves via a scattershot process of second-guessing, this category of dater might state that they love dogs, are allergic to dogs, or enjoy eating dogs within the space of three minutes. They pointlessly try to tick boxes that don’t need ticking, forgetting that even if their story about being Dustin Hoffman’s nephew impresses in the short term, the truth will eventually emerge in a hideously embarrassing denouement.
@ninieke84
We meet at the cinema. I wait at the end of the stairs. He walks up, sees me, turns around and walks away :(
@Hannah_Drama
He asked me if he could watch me wee as it turns him on. I left immediately.
@spielraum
She dragged me round various houseware stores and critiqued the items on sale in agonizing detail.
@NadiaKamil
A blind date. He turned out to be a weirdo who didn’t order anything but watched me eat then paid for it.
Crap Dates: Disastrous Encounters from Single Life Page 1
