We can't make this stuff up. True dating horror stories.

Source: Match.com via OMG Seriously

This guy seemed like such a great match! Successful, not the best looking however very kind, straight forward and forthcoming. We talked on the phone for over an hour and really connected. He had a very east coast way about him – just said what he thought and I felt his honest was very refreshing. He was definitely saying everything I wanted to hear (which you can tell they often don’t). So I felt comfortable meeting him in person. He had passed the phone test…so many don’t. So he qualified for a first date.

We met at Cheesecake Factory in Old Towne Pasadena for this date which just reminded me of another bad date I had there! Anyway, we met and were seated in one of the booths and began talking. He was SUPER intense!!! It wasn’t just a casual first meeting – he was like a wolf on the hunt and I was his prey that night. He spoke VERY quickly and VERY abruptly. He wanted marriage, family, to settle down all of that. Very much: let’s just get to the point…

And let me tell you his point: The foundation for any good relationship is good sex. If the sex is bad there is no point in pursuing any kind of relationship…so we should just go to a hotel that night to see if we had the potential for a good relationship. O M G!!!! SERIOUSLY???? He spent a fair amount of time trying to convince me of this ‘fact.’ He was a bit scary to say the least and VERY pushy. Because of course he was God and knew the ONLY way to have a great relationship: GREAT SEX that apparently started on the first date with a complete stranger at a hotel!!!!!!! His suggestion was to get alcohol and pretend like we were in high school and get drunk… I told him I never got drunk in high school. I never did that growing up and not really in college either.

I can just picture the ax, rope and shovel in his car… Dear God.

Ladies, always meet them in a public place and DON”T hesitate to leave…

The weird thing was he was so matter-of-fact about the whole process. Like this is just the way it is. I couldn’t wait to get away from his twisted sense of reality and relationships. I have a friend who lived two miles away, a guy friend who had always treated me with the utmost respect, whether sober or not. Always took care of me. I texted him and went to see him after because I felt like I needed to be around a man who had some sense of respect and care for me. I went to his house and we fell asleep talking.

And then. I was reminded of what love could be. I was reminded of what it felt like to be cherished. I woke up in the wee hours before he was awake and went home and was so grateful.

Source: Anne on Internet Dating Stories

I was on lavalife to give it a spin. It was summer, I was bored, I was at home with the 'rents before moving off to grad school..figured there was nothing to lose in just meeting a few men for the heck of it. If nothing else, I'd have some funny stories to share later on. I had no idea.

"Tim" seemed just fine online. He contacted me first, with an eloquent and sincere email.We had some pretty good AIM conversations, AND we clicked over the phone , as well. He arranged something pretty impressive for the first date. He said he would pick me up (yes, I learned my lesson!) and take me to an Italian restaurant, and then to a club. I thought it sounded wonderful and could not wait.

Date night rolls around. He shows up in his souped-up Camaro. He steps out. Here is the only good part: his pictures did not do him justice. He was gorgeous. The first man I met off the 'net who was a complete hunk, for lack of a better word.

My how that didn't matter, even within a few minutes. He starts speeding and swearing and he blasts his ska tunes as loudly as he can to avoid conversation. The only things he muttered were things about ska and how it's the only genre of music that matters. Wrong thing to say to a music major. Mind you, he had told me before we met that he loved Vivaldi and classic rock as well. LIAR!

At dinner, he asked me inappropriate questions such as if I would sleep with another woman for money. At that point, I would have slept with ROSIE O' DONNELL to simply get me away from HIM!
He had no idea what anything on the menu was and kept staring at me to make me uncomfortable. He even told me this is why he was staring at me.

The rest of the night involved more speeding, more awful ska music, and his high school-ish antics...such as "punching" my arm and more stares. At one point, he turned one of his songs especially loud while announcing, "listen! this one's about DATE RAPE! Probably not the best song to be playing now, huh? Ha!".

He insisted on driving through a Wendy's, where he told me he stopped all the time "when he gets the munchies after getting stoned". A charmer!

Thank God it eventually ended, and thank God we both knew we were an awful match. Lesson learned: if he seems too good to be true, he is. He's lying about something! Lesson part deux: don't let him pick you up for date #1. EVER! Not safe, and if he *isn't* a total pyscho, you'll just me miserable and stuck for a few hours.

Source: My Dating Disaster

I had joined a dating website as a way to meet new women in the area. I had just moved to Seattle and I did not know anyone other than my boss at my job. After a couple of weeks of browsing profiles I came across a girl who looked and sounded like the girl for me. She was attractive and her profile was extremely open and honest. She was not looking for anything serious, just a good time and great conversation. I sent her a message telling her I like her profile and told her a little about myself.

After we exchange a few emails we decided to speak on the phone. Her voice was calming and sweet and every time we talked I got more and more interested. After about three weeks of phone calls every night,we decided to meet up in person . She told me she was nervous about meeting me and suggested we bring a friend along with us. I told her she was more than welcome to but I decieded to fly solo due to me not knowing anyone in the area.

When I showed up at a local bar and restaurant she was exactly like I had imagined. Her voice was raspy and sext and her friend was equally as attractive. I noticed that she and her friend had an odd relatinshiop and were very aggressive females. They loved to talk about sex,pinch my butt,and make very sexual comments. Now I am not putting down females who do this, I just am typically not attracted to women who are like this. I decided to let it go and try something new out for a change because I was in a whole new area of the country. It wasn’t until she got up on stage for karaoke that I noticed something wasn’t right. The song choice was “Let’s hear it for the boy and it got the crowd in an uproar. I then noticed that the entire bar was packed full of gay guys and drag queen I didn’t know how to handle this situation, all I knew is that I needed to get out of there and quickly.I could tell her friend knew that I had just come to realize that she was a HE. She leaned in and said “Are you scared to get a little rough?” and then I realized that she too was a drag queen! I support every one for having their own preferences, but I am a straight man and did not want to have sexwith a drag queen. As I paid my tab and tried to sneak out my date was finishing up the song and yelled out at me on the microphone! “Look boys, it looks like someone is scared of a Drag Queen”.  I was so embarrassed, I moved back home to Illinois that next week.

Source: Caterina Christakos on Student Now

There is something about a man with a picture of his sister on the dashboard of his truck that should send warning signals coursing through any normal woman's brain- especially if the picture is from glamour shots. As usual, I was blind to all signals the universe tried to throw my way and dared to venture where angels fear to tread.

I am of course referring to my first and last blind date. When my "good" friend set me up, she knew I was looking for an," old fashioned guy;" or "a southern gentleman."Perhaps we had different interpretations because what I got was a redneck from the furthest reaches of hell and his kin folk. Of course on the phone he was warm, charming, and funny. His mellow, drawl and self - description had me sure that finally I had met the man of my dreams.

In reality, at best, he was a pint sized version, whose hat was bigger than he was. I didn't know that God made men shorter than I am, well other than midgets but there he was all five foot nothing of him. I finally knew what really tall women went through when a man's nose was level with her breasts.

After excusing myself to yank my dress higher, and mentally vowing to kill my best friend for setting us up, we were off. He showed up in his truck, which was fine with me as I love pick ups. The problem was that it was as tiny as he was. After stepping the millimeter up to his truck, I saw it ... a picture of a fairly attractive woman. The first thought that passed through my mind was oh great he has a picture of his ex on the dashboard. Seeing my look he hurried to explain that it was his sister. I don't know why this relieved me. I mean you don't hear of too many guys with pictures of their sisters on the dash but nevertheless I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

What a mistake that was! First he took me to meet his friends, the only outsider among them being a guy from Miami, the city I was currently living in. They didn't like his citified ways. I mean my goodness he actually used a fork and knife and apologized after passing gas. I could see the direction the evening was heading as clearly as the gigantic zit on the top of the pint sized head of my escort.

We went to see his family next, all of this on the first date mind you. I felt like I was under inspection by the Inquisition. "Oh, you're from Miami?"- raised eyebrows," How nice. Wait a minute, you mean you actually bought that outfit? We make our own clothes here. Spending money on store bought clothes is such a waste, don't you agree. Although what you have on is soo you, what's the name of that material? "

On and on it went. OK, so maybe miniskirts are a bit more accepted in Miami than Raleigh, North Carolina but it is the 1990s not the 1890s for heaven sakes. While I was in the midst of interrogation by the revived Confederacy, my darling escort was on the couch with his sister's fiance discussing a woman's place and apparently how I didn't know mine. When the piercing bellow of "Get me my beer, woman?" drifted sweetly to me, it was almost like music. It was the final straw to break this camel's back. Thanking his family for the iced tea- the only thing they offered me- I pleaded a migraine and pleaded to be brought home. Not one protest met that suggestion and we were off. By the time Jed Clampitt Jr. got me home at a shocking 9pm, I was ready for a Triple dose of Tylenol and my own sawed off shotgun.