Speaking Of Coming On Too Strong…

Posted on April 7, 2012


Halfway through our first cocktail on our first date, Dan asked me if I’d had any truly disastrous dating experiences. Little did he know, I collect disaster dates. I shared this story, and threw the question right back at him.

“Nothing too bad,” he said. “Just one girl who came on a little too strong.”

At this point, I liked Dan. He was cute, had an interesting job at a start up and laughed at my jokes. Check, check, check. He mentioned that he’d had a couple drinks before meeting me, but he seemed sober. I was feeling good.

But by our second round of drinks, he appeared to have changed his mind about acting like a gentleman, and I had changed my mind about liking him.

While I stayed put at our table, he went to order our refills at the bar, and returned with two of the largest Jameson shots I’ve ever seen. I’m not completely against taking shots at the right occasion—a bachelorette party or a 21st birthday—but our get-to-know-you cocktail hour was not one of those times. Not wanting to seem a poor sport, I took half the shot and told him I’d save the rest for later. That’s when the pestering began. Every five minutes, it was “Will you take the rest of that shot already?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk or something?” I half-joked.

He only smiled. Then he grabbed my scarf that was poking out of my purse. “This looks way better on me,” he announced, tying it around his neck.

“If you say so…”

Then, he sat on my lap.

Yeah, that caught me off guard, too. I tried to laugh it off and playfully push him off, but he wouldn’t budge. This dude was probably twice my size, and I was not pleased.  Plus, he was sitting directly on my bladder.

“Ok, now I have to pee,” I announced after what seemed like hours of him just chilling there. That finally got him to move.

When I was about 10 steps away, he yelled, “Will you look at that ass? That is one fine ass?” I covered my butt with my purse and walked faster.

When I returned, I was ready to say goodbye to Dan and move on with my life. After all, it was a Saturday night and there were better things I could be doing. But before I could, he stood up to go to the bathroom as well. I texted a few friends to see if anyone was doing anything worth joining.

I was still texting when I noticed the group of girls at the table next to me whispering and giggling in my direction. Was my hair doing something funky? Had I spilled something on my dress? I turned to realize that Dan’s head was just above my right shoulder, smiling creepily and reading every word I was typing.

“What the hell?” Now I was mad. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” he responded. “So you making other plans?”

Thankfully, that was just the out I needed.

—Raz, 25, NYC

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Posted in: My Stories