Sarah Wexler - Awful First Dates: Hysterical, True, and Heartbreakingly Bad

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Copyright 2012 by Sarah Z. Wexler

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Wexler, Sarah Z. (Sarah Zoe)

Awful first dates : hysterical, true, and heartbreakingly bad / Sarah Z. Wexler. p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.

(pbk. : alk. paper) 1. Dating (Social customs)--Anecdotes. I. Title.

HQ801.W652 2012

306.73--dc23

2011035362

Printed and bound in the United States of America.

VP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Here's to great couples, who give me hope, and to great singles, who also give me hope.

CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1: Mr. Monopoly Money

Chapter 2: Mr. "It's Five O'Clock Somewhere"

Chapter 3: Mr. Sexual Super-Freak

Chapter 4: Mr. Not-Quite-Single

Chapter 5: Mr. Fascist

Chapter 6: Mr. Fast Forward

Chapter 7: Mr. TMI

Chapter 8: Mr. Maladjusted

Chapter 9: Mr. Critical

Chapter 10: Mr. Out-To-Dinner Disaster

Chapter 11: Miss "It's Not You, It's Me. No, Really."

Conclusion

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Awful First Dates: Hollywood Dispatch

"I was a smart dating girl. I always had enough money for a cab from wherever I was. I didn't have any problem breaking a date. Like I'd say, 'You know what, this date is really not working out. Don't worryi f you don't pick up the tab, I will, and I'll take a cab back to my house.' If you say it like you mean it, the dates can't be bad they just end."

Wendy Williams

Awful First Dates: Hollywood Dispatch

"Most of my dates have been pretty messed-up."

Taylor Momsen

INTRODUCTiON

Recently I was interviewing Cindy Crawford for a magazine article, and as much as I wanted to focus on hearing about the ingredients in her new skin- care line, I couldn't stop thinking about the bad date I'd had the night before. A really bad date, especially one you'd had high hopes for, can rock your self-esteem and leave you feeling hopeless, not only about dating, but also about loveand on a dramatic day, about humanity in general. So at the end of our chat, I asked her if she had ever been out with a toad. She thought for a moment and then told me she's "never been on a really bad date." Right. Of course she hasn't. When I asked Jennifer Lopez the same question, she told me, "I was never a dater. I had a boyfriend from the time I was sixteen until I was twenty-three, and then I got married. I never did the date sceneI was lucky."

Cindy Crawford, Jennifer Lopez: this book is not for you.

It's for the rest of us. For those of us who think we are perfectly normal (or at least normal-ish), yet somehow keep meeting guys who are drunk, weird, rude, pushy, or critical, who lack basic human communication skills, who are not actually single, or who try to hump our legs before we even order appetizers. Our theme song is a mash- up of Three 6 Mafia's "It's Hard out Here for a Pimp" and Beyonce's "Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)," something adding up to "It's Hard out Here for All the Single Ladies." And is it ever. Even if you're happily paired off now, you probably went on a bad date, or have friends telling you their weekly Saturday-night horror stories, so this book is for you too. It's for all of us who've gone on bad set-ups, bad Internet dates, dates where you wish your whole life was filmed so you could turn to the camera in a private aside, mid-date, like Ferris Bueller or Zack Morris or Michael Scott, and mouth, "Really?" This book is for all of us who have gone into a date hoping to find Mr. Right and instead met Mr. Cheapskate, Mr. Drunk-Before-Noon, or Mr. Told-Me-I'm-Fat.

The thing is, I can't entirely hold Cindy Crawford's comment against her, because I used to be in that camp. Not that I mean I was a superhot international supermodel who had boys gawking at me in Pepsi commercials or anything, but just that I didn't always have trouble with men; I wasn't always going on bad dates. In fact, until my midtwenties, I'd always been someone's girlfriend. I'm not sure I'd even been on a dateI just met someone and he became my boyfriend, the way that so many young people do. Dates with complete strangers were for people on The Bachelor or in romantic comedies. Instead, I've basically been paired up since the third grade (seeing Beethoven with Michael Duarte, the kid with the blonde bowl cut and the really cool purple Umbrosswoon!). I was in one relationship for three years in high school, another for four years in college (it ended when I studied abroad and found an international boyfriend), and the one after that lasted for three years. I never let one guy go until I'd lined up the next suckerer, suitor.

Which is why it shocked everyone when I decided to break up with a boyfriend without a backup guy waiting in the wings. Nope, I was ready to try something fun and casualgoing on dates! It seemed so cosmopolitan. I couldn't wait to get a manicure, glide on some red lipstick, and meet a stranger in a candle-lit restaurant for a glass of wine. After all, there had to be millions of single men in my new home, New York City. But first I had to meet them. In college, people met prospective dates in class, in intramural sports, or the next morning when they woke up in the same bed after a keg party. But postacademia, it gets tougher to date people you know, unless you make a move on a coworker, your mailman, or the guy who delivers your Chinese food. And not having a network of vouched-for men means a lot of random set-ups and Internet dating sites. Which means strangers, basically. And as I quickly learned, it also means lowering your expectations. Instead of those romantic candle-lit dinners, I got a guy whose idea of a picnic spread, after a five-mile hike, was pulling out a half-full baggie of trail mix.

I spent the next three years going on first datesand a couple seconds, and even a few fourths. By the end, I had my routine down: blow-dry my hair, lacquer on the eye makeup, pop in a mint, and be on my way. Ever since

I approached the wrong guy at a coffee shop, thinking he was my Internet date, I always got to the meeting place early so it would be up to him to recognize me. If anyone would have to be embarrassed before the date even started, it would be him. While I'd wait, I'd sit and text my male friend the info I had about my date, like his username or where he told me he worked (my friend requested this, I think, because he watched too much Law & Order: SVU).

But once the guy would show up and we'd get to talking, my funny, sprawling storiesabout a horrible coworker, my psycho former roommate, snorkeling in Barbadosbecame reduced to pat one-liners I recited to man after man. I went on so many dates, answering the same questions so many times, that I would sometimes pause, midsentence, not remembering if I'd just made the joke about my boss to this guy five minutes ago or if that was the guy I saw on Tuesday. It was exhausting, disheartening, and occasionally a good time, but nothing stuck. Either I didn't like him, or he didn't like me, or we mutually disliked each other. I just couldn't seem to find the win-win opposite of that. I wasn't asking for love at first sightjust like after first date.