Date Horror Story 8: We started off on a good note. She was on time. I was on time. She liked weird fantasy books. I liked weird fantasy books. Things were going well. At the end of the date, she leaned in toward me and we kissed. It was one of those beautiful, floating-on-a-cloud type of kisses. At least, until she bit my lip. I think she meant it to be a playful, innocent sort of bite. Instead, she took a chomp out of me. I felt like she was trying to bite my lip off. Needless to say, I shouted in pain.
My lip was suddenly bleeding heavily. I pulled away quickly, but not before some of the blood from my lip got into her mouth. She instinctively spat the blood back out on me. It landed on my face and shirt. A little landed in my eye, stinging. Not exactly what I needed to hear as I desperately cratered my bleeding lip.
I grabbed a bunch of napkins and stuffed them in my mouth. When I looked back up, she was gone. Mama Bear We met on a Tuesday night. Stayed up all night drinking and talking. I sobered up a bit, we went to his bed, he fell asleep mid-BJ and I went to sleep for about 45 minutes. Then, I got up, went to work with my first hangover, had an awful day at work because of said hangover, then went back to his place that night.
He had made me a key to his place. After I had met him once. The rest of the evening though, he kept telling me that he loved me, my body was his to do with as I pleased for as long as I wanted him, that I was his Mama Bear, etc. I figured I could deal with it for the night and break the news to him the next day, so we went to bed.
A Clown On Acid First of all, let me now and forever swear to you that this entire story is true, beginning to end. Tina Fey could not even create this as fiction. I found him physically kind of gross ponytail, tobacco-blackened gums , but that was the least of his problems. We sat at the the bar and I attempted to make the usual conversation: Eventually we moved to a table to have dinner. I like to put on a clown suit, drop acid, and drive to the mall to dance with the little children.
I, um, I guess I shoplifted when I was thirteen. Oh, so the question was just to get back to his story. I once burned down a building for money. It was nice to meet you.
Date Horror Story The Blowjob From Hell Warning: Met a guy on the bus on the way home from school one night. And he seemed like a nice guy. We text a few times over the next week.
He shows up at my door one night. Fine, I was just watching reruns of South Park in my jammies anyway. We go upstairs, start to get a little freaky. He takes his pants off and I start blowing him. Two minutes later, he does. I run to the bathroom, wash my mouth out, gargle with chlorhexidine and take an antihistamine.
Then he sees me walking home from the bus one night and calls to me from his garden. I go in and say hi, give him a hug. I guess he thinks all mothers are scary? Nothing like that has ever happened before. He touches me, hesitantly, with one finger, on the outside.
I try to tell him what I like, but he pulls my head into his lap. This time the reaction is worse some allergies get worse with repeated exposure and instantaneous. My airway almost totally closes up within seconds, and I scrabble in my nightstand drawer for an Epi-pen. TL; DR — Guy came in my mouth when I expressly asked him not to, and due to my semen allergy I nearly ended up in emergency. We only talked briefly but agreed to meet them at the Mondrian hotel for cocktails the following day.
At lunchtime we met in the lobby and ordered drinks. I mean who thinks that way anymore? Now both these comments were undeniably racist and ignorant. The drinks then just arrived and the waiter served them smartly and nicely.
Despite their ignorance, he clearly took pride in his work. I got simultaneously angry and disgusted. A little about us: My buddy is Italian. We just gave each other a slight nod and stood up as one.
I took out cash plus a generous tip and paid the waiter, thanking him for his service. Then I looked at the girls and said something my dad always reminded me. The exchange went like this it was actually longer but this was the important part: In reality it took a few more sentence back and forths, but you get the gist. Makes me angry just recalling it.
We went to the Sunset Lounge, and as we were walking home we saw them inside the Sunset Trocadero with two old men, probably between 50 and 60 yrs old. No issue with that, but they saw us and gave us the finger as we walked by, then scooched in close to the men, their expression saying we missed out.
The Ex Files He texted me earlier that he would meet me at the restaurant at 8. I agreed, got ready and reached the restaurant at 7: So I got a booth and decided to wait. And finally, after 25 minutes, he arrives and stares at me in horror. We order food and spend the next 1 hour staring down at our plates. He got a text message and after reading it, he seemed to be in actual physical discomfort. I asked if he was okay. I cant stop thinking about her. But yeah… Happy Halloween!!!