I was seriously looking for a nice, down-to-earth guy that had similar interests and was looking for a nice, normal girl. This is an excerpt of an email I sent to all my friends after the date from hell. Profile: Mr Mc Steamy Wants children: Yes College: Cornell Works in: Finance Drinking: Socially Salary: I'll tell you later What he wants: 5'0' to 5'9', smart, inquisitive, fun-loving girl to share life with."We met at Coffee Shop in Union Square. He agreed, and we planned to meet at Penn Station to the bar together."I get there and can't find him anywhere, so I call his phone. I was shocked into stoned silence and didn’t say or do anything, not even when my date started sobbing quietly in the cop car."At the precinct where I spent three hours of my life, my date was herded into a man’s holding cell with a few Rastafarians while I sat alone in the women’s cell. What weighs more, 100 pounds of gold or 100 pounds of feathers? '); and the finer points of patent-leather platform boots ('They're much more comfortable than you think, am I right? My proper Midwestern upbringing (and lack of a decent date in months) kept me numbly agreeing and dancing by his side, and then finally allowing him to walk me home. If you could make love to a Yankee player who it be? my plain ol' black and nudes'); his recent visit to the Adult Video Awards in Vegas ('My friends are on the show —have you seen it? How cool would it be to work out and go straight to work? Total creepazoid.""Over an awfully and unpleasantly forward sushi dinner near St. Which was exactly the same moment I saw the flashing lights. I had to play dumb at this point because I knew this guy was weird.)Him: 'That life, you know being a stripper, getting a discount in the gym. Same with you.' After picking up my jaw from the floor, I said a few choice words and left. '), I decided that it couldn’t get any worse and we went outside to smoke a joint. Now, I have lost a parent, but it's certainly not my first date conversation.
Okay, that's a lie, but click through to read first-person tales*—from a literal blind date to a Civil War fanatic—that you'll be sharing again and again. Or do."We all know that meeting in NYC can be difficult, and since I have lost count of the numerous people I know that have met on JDate or Match.com, I signed myself up on a dating site. The idea of being 'punked' crossed my mind, but it was clear that Henry, a cute, IT guy by day, was living in an era gone-by, when, as we exited to barhop over to R bar, he paused to light his pipe while cursing the 'blasted wind,' and began to tell a ghost story from the reenacted battlefields."And as he said goodbye to me and opened my cab door like a gentlemen, he asked for a second date. He seemed great, an engineer, 5'10" with dark brown hair, lives close by, very smart. Seeing as we are both Yankees fans, I asked him if he'd like to head to a sports bar to watch a game.
I could get her to go home with me right now if I offered her enough money.
When I come back, it's your turn to ask me questions! When I asked him what he meant by that, he pointed at a woman sitting at the bar and said, 'That girl has a price.
' To which he replied, 'I told her I was at my high-school basketball game' (!!! All I could do was laugh and tell him that we very quickly needed to part ways.
' He looked at me and said, 'I’m a sophomore in high school.' I guessed he was about 16-years-old... He told me he still would like to be friends, and I quickly said, 'Where the hell does your mom think you are right now?!