Etiquette Hell = Where the ill-mannered deserve to go


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The Dating Game

2002 Archive
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When I was 17 I was asked out on my first date ever. The boy was new to our small town and I jumped at the chance to go out with him. After all, I was a late bloomer and here was someone who wanted to go out with me. I got my parent's permission and we arranged to have him pick me up at my parent's house that Saturday.

First off, he was early. I was planning on dashing into the shower but he arrived too soon and I had to nix the shower and just throw on a quick change of clothes. He was new to town, so I suggested a movie. We agreed on the movie "Single White Female" (yes I'm dating myself). When "Tom" went to purchase the tickets,( I was more than prepared to have this be Dutch, so I was pleased that he bought for the two of us.) he ordered "two single white females". This struck me as incredibly funny and I started laughing. Well, Tom wanted to know what was so funny, so I explained that it sounded like he was ordering women, like from an escort catalog. I finished up by saying that my friends all were quite surprised by how sweet and innocent I looked, but how filthy a sense of humor I could have. (yes, looking back on that, it was the wrong thing to say).

Well, from the moment we sat down in the theater Tom was all over me. At first having his arm over my shoulders and having him hold my hand was nice. I felt pretty and appreciated. My ego was getting a great fluffing! But it quickly became too much, he was kissing and fondling and holding and I asked him to stop. I told Tom that he was moving way too fast for me and I wasn't comfortable with so much physical attention so quickly. Tom backed off for a little while, but started in again soon after. Time after time I pushed him away, time after time he pressed his attention on me.

The movie ended at eight, and neither of us thought it was time to go home. My parent's had given me a curfew of 12:00 AM and Tom had heard that. I still held hopes of saving the evening. Tom suggested that we park on the side of the road in his pick-up truck and "listen to the radio". Now momma didn't raise that big a fool and I told Tom in no uncertain terms that "there was no way on earth I was going to do that, we had just met, and no offence but you could be an axe murderer as far as I know." He took it fairly well and I then suggested that we go to a local family restaurant that my mother just happens to work at during the day. I knew that while she wasn't going to be there, a bunch of people that we both knew would be working there. It felt safe to me. When we arrived at the restaurant Tom spotted his parent's car. We ended up joining them and they bought us a plate of fries to share.

Well, while I was talking with Tom and his parents, his mother reaches over and pats my hand. She then say to me "I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Parent and I won't be home until MUCH later tonight, just in case you and Tom want to go back to our house."

I was shocked. I felt like his mother was pimping me out! I then smiled sweetly, and claimed a sudden headache and asked Tom to take me home. There was no avoiding him in our small high school, but I made sure I was never alone with him again, and that was my last date until sometime in my early twenties I was so shaken.



I know this girl, let's call her "Sheryl" who used to rent an apartment with a friend of mine "Denise". Her boyfriend "Adrian" who was an uninvited lodger most of the time, had absolutely no idea about etiquette. He would leave his dishes to be washed by Sheryl or Denise, leave his smelly socks around the living room, and turn up when Sheryl was not there to wait for her to bring home some take-away food when she got off work. Adrian claimed he was a model and an actor but was actually a pizza waiter, meaning he was permanently skint and had to scrounge off Sheryl for everything including a holiday to Cuba. One night Denise was horrified to go into the kitchen to find Sheryl and Adrian having sex on a chair beside the dinner table but that is another story. (And they didn't stop having sex either when Denise came in.)

Neither Denise nor I, nor anyone else for that matter could understand what Sheryl was doing with Adrian. She was a pretty, intelligent person. But things finally came to a head one night. Adrian called round demanding that Sheryl go out with him "straight away" to the bar. Sheryl had just got back from the gym and was not dressed to go out, so she said as much. He sulked and she ended up going out without so much as brushing her hair. Then later when they are in the bar the girl at the next table starts talking to Adrian. Sheryl is upset but tries not to show it, while Adrian continues to completely ignore Sheryl. Eventually he turns to Sheryl and asks her to go to the bar for a couple of drinks. When she returns he takes the beer for himself, then takes the vodka and coke from Sheryl and GIVES it to the girl at the next table. He then continues to ignore Sheryl.

Finally Sheryl stands up for herself and says she wants to go home. On the way home Adrian decides he wants some Kentucky Fried Chicken but has no money so Sheryl has to pay for it to shut him up. When Sheryl asks if she can try one of the chips he refuses.

I think that was the final straw for Sheryl and she soon kicked him out, although he called her the next week to ask for the book on Cuba, which she had paid for.



This is only a little faux-pas...but it set the tone for the rest of our relationship.   We were coming up to our first Valentine's Day together. My boyfriend had hinted he would like to buy me jeweler. I told him he didn't need to, I'd be perfectly happy with flowers, but he was insistent.

Well, I have sensitive skin, so I can't wear 'fake' jeweler next to my skin, it gives me a rash. And I really don't like large jeweler or gold, I prefer discreet silver jeweler. I'm little, and pale, and big and gold jeweler just looks cheap and garish on me, so I never wore it. I let him know this. Not just hinting, I told him. I pointed out the jeweler I liked. I wanted to help him choose a present I would love (and I chose a present I knew he would love too). I was actually quite looking forward to it.

Valentine's day came, and he gave me my present. I opened the jeweler box eagerly.   It was gold. Not just gold, but huge, garish gold. The total antithesis of any jeweler I ever wore. The total opposite to the style of jeweler I liked. And as I lifted it up, I realized it was fake gold. Which I was allergic to. He hadn't listened to one word I said. He hadn't taken my taste, or even my allergy into account when he chose the necklace.

Well, I smiled sweetly, and wore the necklace, and got my massive rash , although looking back, I shouldn't have done. It was the start of a relationship in which he never took my feelings or needs - or allergies - into account. Luckily, he is now history....and I gave him back the necklace to give to his new girlfriend.



Hi Jeanne, I've been hooked on your website for ages now. The stories are really a great ol' boost to the self-esteem. At least I'm not as bad as some of these poor saps. On to the story of my date from hell...

I met "Dave" in the parking lot of a convenience store while I was waiting in the car for my friends to come back from a beer run they were making for a party that was going on in a nearby neighborhood. Dave walked up to me and asked my name, being a suspicious sort I raised one eyebrow at him and asked, "Why?" He answered with (I kid you not), "Because when I see a beautiful woman I want to know what her name is."

After much banter I took his phone number and told him I'd call him.

A few days later I did call. I don't know why, I knew I shouldn't, but I did anyway and we spoke on the phone a bit. Dave was, for some reason, being a complete ass but said that his friend "Kevin" wanted to talk to me. So I talked to Kevin and he was a charmer. Uneducated, redneck, but charming as could be. I agreed to go out with Kevin despite not remembering what he looked like from that first infamous meeting. He told me to pick place for us to meet and have dinner, anywhere at all, so I picked Outback, classy enough for a first date but casual enough to (hopefully) facilitate conversation. I must say that at this point I told him if my choice was too pricey that we could go somewhere else, it didn't matter to me. Despite coming from an upper middle class household I'm not a stickler about dates spending vast fortunes on me or anything and I wanted to make sure he could comfortably afford my choice of dining establishments. He declined and said Outback was fine and not a problem.

I dolled myself up and looked wonderful, if I do say so myself. I drove to the restaurant and waited out front for Kevin. Since I had no idea what he looked like I was relying on him being able to pick me out himself. As I was standing there waiting this large, beat up monolith of a car screeched to a halt in front of the restaurant and this disheveled man in ripped jeans and a stained tank top spilled out of the backseat, yelled a hasty "thanks!" to his comrades in the car and they sped off.

I knew it was Kevin. I didn't want it to be Kevin, but I knew it was.

He came up to me and smiled, showing his 4 missing front teeth, we exchanged greetings and made our way inside and were seated in a booth near the kitchen. We chatted a bit and when the waitress came to take our order I, still feeling as if this place might be a bit heavy on his wallet, ordered the cheapest thing on the menu. The waitress then asked Kevin for his order and he said, "I'll just have a beer."

I looked at him incredulously, "You're not going to eat?"

He drawled, "Naw, baby, I'm taking you out to dinner, not me."


It was obvious to me at this point that he most certainly could not afford this date if he could only afford to buy me dinner and I felt instantly sorry for him, but being a stupid teenager with no job I had no money of my own at the time so couldn't even offer to go Dutch or even pay outright for dinner. I also decided at the same time that he was a dolt for doing this when I'd offered, quite frankly, to go with something less expensive. I was embarrassed beyond belief.

So I ate my dinner and Kevin had 3 beers and afterwards I mentioned I needed to get going and made up some lame excuse as to why I needed to leave. He then says to me, "Can you give me a ride home? I had some friends drop me off and told them I'd just get you to bring me back."


I agree, reluctantly, and we got in my car. He directed me to a down trodden trailer park and said that he was living with his brother and his family in their trailer. As we pull up to one of the more run down looking trailers that he indicated was his brother's a large woman with greasy hair and stained clothes was standing out front and Kevin says, "Oh sh*t, my ex-wife is here!"


By this time it was dark outside and he opened his door and asked me if I wanted to come inside for a minute. I told him I really couldn't, had to be going, really needed to get home, etc. He leans over and shoves his tongue down my throat with his ex watching us through the windshield.

Just then the cutest little blonde girl, about 4 years old came tearing out of the trailer and hops in Kevin's lap. "This is my daughter Brianna." She was a bubbly little thing and cute as a bug and she looked at me, eyes wide and said, "Are you my daddy's new girlfriend? He said you were going to be!" And then, "My daddy has a great big knife he hides under his bed!"

Kevin looks at Brianna and says, "Now, honey, we said we weren't going to tell anyone about that, remember?"

Oh, dear god.

Kevin tries to cajole me into committing to a date next weekend in which we'll take Brianna to the zoo. Kids are cute and sometimes even fun, but I knew even then that I had very little tolerance for them and had no urge to spend the day with Kevin and his offspring. I told him I'd have to check my schedule.

Eventually I untangled myself from that situation (after a few more tongue wrestling matches) and drove home. I decided then to swear off dating for a good, long while. I dodged his frequent phone calls for about a week and then they stopped altogether.

Kevin did eventually call me again, several months later, and I told him I had a boyfriend which was a total lie.


When I was a young girl in college, I was attracted to bad boys.  Don't ask me to explain it, the  worse they were, the more exciting they were to me. (Thank goodness that was just a passing fad.)  Maybe their dangerous glamour attracted me, as I had led a very sheltered small town life and always had done everything I was told to do.  These young men who threw every rule  to the wind and did as they pleased seemed wonderful to me.   When I met Jon, he fascinated me. He cared little for his classes, he was an art major and a rebel and a ba--a-a-a- d boy.  I was in Heaven.  We met designing a float for homecoming. Jon's best friend , a sculpture major, was creating a giant  paper mache pile of excrement, complete with two mechanized flies, as his float entry.   It was his social comment on the fraternity system.  Jon's contribution was hanging around, cussing incoherently and drinking beer. He asked for my phone number at the dorm and I could hardly contain myself.   

The next night he took me out for some underage (for me) drinking. He got extremely drunk and  went to the men's room, leaving a manila envelope in the booth, I snooped, and saw nude photos of a very pretty young woman. On the bottom was written "Lori".  I put the envelope back and he was so sloshed that he didn't see it and left it there.   Our next date involved a party at a rather lavish home in the very best section of town- except it turned out that Jon didn't exactly live there- nor had he even been invited- he and his friend had broken into the house while the owners were away on a trip and had the nerve to hold a big party. I didn't find this out until after the bash was over and his friend let it slip. Jon was determined that I should stay overnight there with him, in the master bedroom, But again, he soon passed out and I left, not wanting to be found,  like Goldilocks,  sleeping in someone else's bed.   Our third and final date crossed the line, even for me.  Jon asked me to a party out of town- he swore that it wasn't another breaking and entering party.  We drove and drove, he swilling beer the whole time.  As his senses began to falter, I became more and more terrified of a car crash.  We got very lost and ended up in a remote dirt road in a forest.  Jon then confessed that this was the "party" he had planned, just the two of us out in God-knows where.  What he would have done next I don't know,  but he had no good on his mind, that's for sure. Lucky for me, he had consumed so much beer that he couldn't manage the date rape he had planned and he again passed out dead to the world.   So now I had a real situation: I had no idea where we were, but obviously out in the woods. It was pitch dark, getting very cold, I couldn't push him over enough to get the keys and drive out of there. I sat and watched the hours pass on my watch.  Finally I had to answer the call of nature, so I exited the car,  walked about three feet (I was afraid of bears!) and pulled down my slacks to pee.  Immediately there was a rumble, then a giant roar and every detail of me and my naked bum  exposed by a glaring headlight - he had stopped the car three feet from a train track! 

At about 4 a.m.  Jon woke up enough to announce that we were out of gas and that I was a real drag on a date.  We then walked (me in my party shoes) about two miles in a howling sleet storm to find a gas station. As he drove me back to the dorm- (we had rules in those days and a strict curfew, so I would have to refugee somewhere else until the doors opened at 8 a.m.) he began to chuckle about our great "adventure".  But it wasn't over yet!   The next day I realized that I had left a very valuable earring in Jon's car- I was dressed up for a party, remember. So much as I hated to do it, I had to call him to get it.  Jon had always been a little cagey about where he lived and what his phone number was - told me if I needed to, I could always get him through his friend. (The one who made the excrement float.)   So I did and when I called, his WIFE answered. Yes, Lori, the naked girl in the photos.   This educational experience went a very long way to curing me of my naive yen for wild guys!



In the summer of 2000 I made the move to a big city where I knew NO ONE to take a new job.  I found it hard to meet people because the people in my office were all quite a bit older than me and married.  A friend suggested that I try internet dating as he had met his fiancée that way.  I posted an ad on the site he had suggested and met some nice people but no sparks.  Then, I met “John”.  Email and MSN chats with him led me to believe that we had a lot in common, including that we both practiced a type of martial art kickboxing.  We’d talk on the phone for hours, laughing hysterically at how alike we seemed to be.  All except for one thing – HIS Mother forgot to teach him basic manners, let alone how to treat a woman you are trying to impress.

We agreed we’d see a movie on a Friday night and that he’d pick me up around 6:30 so we could get to the theater for 7pm, and still have time to grab a bite to eat or play some pool.  I was ready at 6:15 and waiting for him until he finally shows up at my door around 8pm.  He was dressed in ripped sweat pants and a grass stained t-shirt.  (I was dressed casually but not THAT casually!)  He tells me that he had a lawn care business on the side, and had to take care of a few clients that night as it was expected to rain over most of the weekend.   Thought to myself that he could have called, but I let it go and said jokingly, “Nice to see that you dressed up for me”, almost half expecting that he’d have a change of clothes in tow.  NO change of clothes but he did have a 12 inch Subway sub in hand, explaining that he hadn’t had time to eat dinner.  So, he brushes past me and into my living room, plops himself down on the couch and pulls out his sub.  He takes a bite and asks with a mouthful “got any Coke?”   I bring him a Coke and he greedily eats his sub and a bag of chips, not offering me even so much as a morsel.  He eats half, wraps up the other half and puts it back in the bag and screws the top back on his Coke.  Then he gets up, goes to my kitchen and puts the two in the fridge.

We walk out to the parking lot and I head to the visitors section asking where he is parked.  He asks me where “I” am parked and tells me that he thought “I” was driving so he left his keys on my coffee table.  So, we walk to the OTHER side of the building to where my car is parked in the parking garage.  (This was an OBVIOUS ploy on his part to get back into my apartment after that date).   I drive us to the theater and he CRITICIZES my driving the entire way, including which route I take to the cinema.  We pull into the parking lot and he says something like we should have stopped at the convenience store to get snacks as they are SO expensive at the theater.  Now at this point I was getting pretty fed up, so instead of offering to pay for my own ticket like I normally would, I stand back and wait for him to pay for the tickets.  I then BOLT over to the snack counter and get myself a snack, not offering to buy him anything (which I normally would if the guy pays for the tickets).  He comes up behind me and I say something like “you’re right – snacks are expensive here!” and proceed into the theater. 

All through the movie it was like he was practically trying to sit in my seat with me as he was ALL over me.  (Maybe he was just trying to get his hand in my bucket of popcorn) I in turn, was practically sitting on the lap of the 80 year old Grandmother sitting next to me.  He kept talking throughout the movie, until I finally said, “Will you please be quiet so I can watch the movie?”   When the movie was over, we were walking down the aisle and talking about our mutual kickboxing interest.  He says he doesn’t think I am so “tough” and he proceeds to punch me HARD in the arm.  He’d lucky my reflexes didn’t kick in and that I didn’t haul off and punch him in the face!  Onlookers were horrified!

We get out to the car and he asks if we are going anyplace else.  I say no that it is late and make and excuse that I have to get up early the next day.  So, back to my place we head and as I move to drop him off in the visitors parking lot before I pull into my parking garage, I remember that his keys are in my place.  So, in we go to my building, me intending to bring his keys to the door and NOT let him in.  He barges in grabs the remote and as he plonks his butt down on my couch, puts his feet up on my antique coffee table.  I sit in a chair ACROSS the room, feigning sleep as he flicks the channels for 15 minutes, and hoping he’d get the hint that I wanted him to leave.  Finally he says, “Let’s go to bed – you’re tired”.  I was like, you don’t honestly think you’re staying the night do you?  He looks at me, goes to the fridge, gets his sub AND the Coke I had given him and leaves without saying another word, slamming the door behind him.  Did he think an $11.00 movie ticket would get him in my bed? *laugh*

I actually got an email from him a couple of weeks later wondering why I hadn’t called him…..


Page Last Updated May 15, 2007