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10 Dating Site Horror Stories You Won’t Believe

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If you watch any type of television, you’ve probably sat through the manyeHarmony or Match.com commercials boasting their Cupid-like reputations for linking people together. Thousands of couples have gone on to live happily ever after thanks to the online dating services out there —but thousands more have been given the boot at the very first date.

Blame it on human nature, but people don’t always tell the truth in their profiles. If you’re going to be stuck with a psycho for two hours during dinner, you’re probably not going to know until your face-to-face and it’s too late. We’ve compiled some of the best stories from survivors of online first date nightmares, so you can catch the warning signs in your own exploits this Valentine’s season.

The Cat Creep Dater

Let me start by saying that I was really only looking to hook up. I had just been dumped by my boyfriend and am not the bar type and so I figured that online dating would be a reasonable option. I used a local personals service (“_city_dating.com”) and had been talking to a guy for about two days before agreeing to meet him. “Mike” had told me that he used online dating because he was suffering from depression and was on medication that made it hard for him to perform. He decided that it was easier to meet girls this way than to meet up in person and then have to explain when they started getting physical. He went on to tell me though that he “had a good feeling” about me and that I was “exciting” to him despite his medication. Okay. I was cool with this and decided to go over to his place to see if we really did have chemistry since we both seemed to be looking for the same thing (a hook-up).

When I got there, he was waiting for me in the living room and we started making out. I could tell that he was getting a little aroused but was having some issues and so when he said that he knew what would “help” and that it was in his bedroom…I willingly followed. Walking in I couldn’t help but notice his bed…surrounded by cat condos. Lots of cat condos. (Some structured to be as tall as I was). I knew he had cats but I assumed he meant one or two and that they were just hiding when I came over. Nope. He had nine (or ten?). Which all came out from under the bed when we sat on it. And all went to their perches on the cat condos to watch us (after rubbing against him and being petted quickly).

He then proceeded to start making out with me again and was…well…massively aroused at this point. I was massively creeped out. I like cats (I have two myself)…but having them watch me pee freaks me out much less watching me have sex. I excused myself openly admitting that this was too weird for me and left. He followed me and begged me to give him another chance and “help” him. I left.

For the next few days he messaged me asking me to come over and saying that he had “made progress” with me. I blocked him after receiving a photo of him nude, on the bed, surrounded by the cats. —Anonymous

The I May Have Forgot To Mention I Have A Beard Dater

 

“I’m not like other girls,” Rose warned me in one of our first online communications, “A lot of things about me are kind of more guy-like than girl. I don’t mean physically.”

Glad for that, I discovered that she meant more with regards to interests and sex drive, at least according to her. She liked taking computers apart, was a sports fan, and was also an aspiring glassblower. We spoke for a good bit, then went out on a first date.

Whoa, she had a beard. That was not a feature in her profile photos. I’m not talking Santa Claus here, but it was thicker than a typical woman’s facial hair. It was a fair-colored patch that extended from her chin to right below her nose. She resembled my father, in fact.

“Hey,” she said, giving me a hug, “How’ve you been?”

Our online conversations had gone well, but, as superficial as it sounds, I didn’t want to kiss her or do anything physical with her at all. I mean, she had more facial hair than I did, for crying out loud. Still, I didn’t want to end things before they had begun, and maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe there was a rational explanation, although I couldn’t figure one out, for the life of me.

So we had dinner, then drinks, and then I wound the evening down. As we walked down the sidewalk, she said, “I’d like to see you again.”

“You’re a lot of fun,” I said, stalling, “Definitely keep in touch.”

“Would you like to get together again?” she asked, making it harder for me to avoid. Thing was, I didn’t know. She was fun. But she had a beard.

I replied, “Yeah, we can hang out.”

That wasn’t the answer it seemed like she wanted. She asked, “Well, is everything okay?”

“I–”

“Is it this?” she rubbed her hairy face up and down.

“Yeah… well, I mean, it’s… it’s a little, well, it’s sort of…”

She let me flounder around for a few more seconds before she said, “It’s not my fault. It’s a curse. And it’ll only get thicker as time goes on.”

“Can you shave it?”

“All razors break upon it.”

“Oh.”

So we’re still friends. Acquaintances. Occasionally in touch. Seldom in touch. Less and less in touch. —Thomas

The Socially Awkward Dater

Murray wrote me a message online and we spoke for a good three weeks before he asked me out on a date. I wrote him back and asked him where he wanted to go, and he replied, “We can do an online date.”

I wrote back, “What’s an online date?”

He replied, “This Friday night, I’ll instant message you at 7:00 and we’ll both have food and something to drink and we’ll talk back and forth like we’re on a real, in-person date.”

I wrote back, “Why not actually have a real, in-person date?”

He wrote back, “I’d feel better having an online date first. I trust you, but there can be some weirdos on the Internet, as I’m sure you know.”

I replied, “True, but what if we were to meet in a public place and keep it to something simple, like coffee? Would that help you feel better?”

He wrote back, “Sure. Yeah. I guess.”

We arranged to meet that Friday in a coffee shop, around 5:30pm. I had arrived there and was waiting for him when he called me up and said, “Hey, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it. It’s getting dark out.”

“So? We agreed on 5:30.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be this dark by then. I mean, we’d still be in a public place and all, but the dark can be dangerous, especially if it’s our first time meeting. You understand?”

“No. Honestly, Murray, if you don’t want to meet up with me now, then I’ll move on to other people.”

“I’ll be right there.” He hung up.

When he arrived, he looked a bit nervous but gave me a friendly smile and a hug, all the same.

“You’re not a killer, right?” he joked.

I joked back, “Actually, I am. Ha ha ha!”

He screamed, turned, and left. I never contacted or heard from him ever again. —Tina

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The I Like To Eat Boogers Dater

Joan came off as brilliant online, and via email. In person, though, she was really shy and quiet. I told her that I was glad to be out to dinner with her, and I complimented her a fair amount, hoping to make her feel more comfortable. She opened up a little bit, but she was definitely content to let me do most of the talking, and I did my best, given the situation.

One of the more animated parts of our conversation was about anime and manga, as we were both fans. We both dabbled in drawing it, and both had a sizable library of DVDs. After a halfway decent talk about it, she closed off again and nervously kept checking her reflection in her spoon. I wasn’t ready to write her off, yet, as perhaps it took her more than one date to warm up to someone, and aside from that, there might have been potential.

During one of the longer quiet spells, though, she stuck a pinky up her nose, pulled out a long booger, and popped it into her mouth.

I glanced down at my food, pretending not to notice, but I could see, in my peripheral vision, that she glanced up at me, to see, maybe, if I had noticed. I pretended not to, and finished off the date without any mention of it. It was, however, our last date. —Richard

 

The Get Drunk And Pee On Things Dater

My friend Carrie met a guy named Robert on Match.com, and the two went out on what started out as a normal, delightful date. Robert stretched the truth slightly, telling Carrie he lived on the Upper East Side. Turns out he lived in Harlem (at least another 1/2 hour from her place in New Jersey), so there was no way she was going to do the late night trip back to Hoboken.

When they got to Robert’s apartment, they were having some wine and discussing regular topics while sitting on the couch, when suddenly Robert flipped out about his career. He got up, paced about the room, and muttered to himself about his career failures. Carrie, creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior, decided to turn in for the night, went to bed, and pretended to sleep. Once Robert thought Carrie was asleep, he downed a handle of Jack Daniels, while his ranting grew more and more disturbing. Carrie tried to calm him down and urged him to come to bed and go to sleep, which he finally agreed to do. But he got up again and went back to his Jack Daniels, downing shots of it this time. After things had finally quieted down, she noticed a strange sound coming from the corner of the bedroom. She got up and saw Robert in the corner of the room where all of her stuff was sitting on the floor, peeing on it.

Finally, Carrie made her way home to Hoboken at 2 a.m., clutching her urine-stained belongings. —Rich S.

 

The Baby Dater

I once went on a date with a guy I met online. He looked normal enough, and I agreed to go on a date with him. We met for drinks, and things were really going well. Handsome, charming, seemingly normal, so I agreed to go on another date with him. We head to a really nice steakhouse, and after appetizers and his third martini, he starts to speak baby talk to me, as in “Would you wike a wittle kissy-wissy?” Our steaks arrive and he reached across the table to cut my meat for me! I’m completely freaked out, decide I’m going to the bathroom, and he asks if I need help wiping. (I wish I was making this up.) I make it to the ladies’ room, where my waitress walks in after me as I’m planning my escape route, and she says, “Um, I was just listening in on your date. Your guy has put a pacifier on your plate. Do you need to get out the back?” She winds up sneaking me through the kitchen, and I slipped her a $20 tip. —Kristin

 

The I Think I’m A Koala (And Eat Leaves From Time To Time) Dater

Inez was an Internet date that I ended up meeting offline. One of her online profile photos was a shot of her holding a koala, and from talking to her online and in person, she was a koala fiend.

She even said, “I almost wore one of my koala shirts tonight, but I figured I’d ease you into it gradually.”

There were no issues at dinner, although she told me, more than once, that koalas apparently make great pets. After dinner, we went on a walk nearby and as we strolled past a yard with a bunch of bushes, she stopped and sniffed the air.

She asked me, “You smell that? Eucalyptus! I’d know it anywhere!”

She reached at a shrub and pulled off some leaves. She waved them at me, said, “Eucalyptus!” and popped a handful into her mouth.

She offered the one remaining leaf to me, and I refused her gracefully. She smelled the leaf, said, “Mmm!” and ate it, as well. She then grabbed and munched on another handful of leaves, and then another.

She said, “Only people and koalas can digest them. Sure you don’t want any?”

I refused her politely, again. She ate the rest of the leaves and we walked on. She kept talking about them. “They’re an acquired taste. They’re bitter, but you can use them in tea, baking, and potpourri.”

The date soon ended, and we both went home.

The leaves probably weren’t eucalyptus, because she wound up violently ill over the following two weeks. I felt bad, but I lost interest, so we didn’t go out again.—Joshua

 

The Let’s Have Sex Now Dater

I met a man, 55 years old. He seemed like a decent person, gainfully employed, and was average in the looks department. On the first date we met for coffee. Second date he took me out to dinner. Third date he invited me to go for a Sunday drive to the Napa area. He picked me up in a camper-style vehicle. We stopped at a deli and picked up some lunch and took it with us.

As we headed up 101 North, he pulled the camper off into a rest area so we could have our deli lunch. He opened a bottle of wine and then informed me that he had decided it was time for us to have sex! I told him I wasn’t ready for that and he proceeded to insult me, telling me that something was wrong with me. He then started arguing about it and informed me that he had discussed this with his 90-year-old mother and that she told him he should expect sex on the third date! I told him to take me home and didn’t speak to him the rest of the trip.

It was a nightmare! I could hardly wait to get back to my apartment and away from him. He dropped me off at the front door — his parting words were that I was emotionally immature. —Anonymous

 

The I’m 100% Blind But Totally Left That Out Of My Profile Dater

I met him on OkCupid. He seemed great, an engineer, 5’10” with dark brown hair, lives close by, very smart. We talked on the phone and it went very well. He was witty, intelligent, and funny. He invited me to meet him for drinks and asked me for a bar suggestion. Seeing as we are both Yankees fans, I asked him if he’d like to head to a sports bar to watch a game. 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. Then, I notice a short, disheveled man stumbling about on the street. I think to myself: ‘This cannot be my date….’ But, sadly, it is. He is 5’6″ at best, and sloppy-looking with a gross purple shirt half-tucked into his wrinkled khaki pants. He looks nothing like his pictures. But that wasn’t what made this date the most awkward date of my life thus far. He left out one VERY important detail-he’s 100% BLIND!

I decided to be a good sport and stick it out. We walked to a nearby watering hole and took a couple of seats at the bar. The Yankees game was on, but of course he can’t see it. There are four other TVs playing four other different games. So, I’m stuck giving him a play-by-play the entire time. He was unsteady on his barstool and his eyes wandered all over the place; I could barely pay attention to our conversation. At first I felt bad-this man has a serious disability that he has to face every day. But after missing his mouth with his chicken finger and spilling a bit of beer on me, I knew this was not the man for me. I felt a little sorry for him, but only a little. After all, I was duped into dating this visually impaired weirdo! He should have prepared me for this!”

We were seated next to one of the bar’s bouncers who could not stop laughing. I shot him one of those ‘please-don’t-make-this-worse-for-me’ glances and he thankfully moved to the other side of the bar.

After finishing our chicken fingers and beer, this guy tried to make an inappropriate advance. At first I thought he was trying to hold my hand, but when he reached out he tried to cop a feel of my boob. I was shocked and immediately stopped him and told him I was not interested in him. He did not take this well. He asked what he did wrong and looked genuinely upset. I tried to let him down as easy as possible. After he accepted that I would not be going out with him again, we decided to call it a night and walked out of the venue. Then he asked if I had any friends I could set him up with….I did a 180 and left this blind man in the middle of the street. I never saw him again. But I guess he never saw me at all. —Irene R.

 

The Masterbater Dater

I met him on Match, which I’d joined as an attempt to tiptoe back into dating after a very painful divorce. He sent me a message saying my profile was intriguing and he would love a shot at meeting me.

We went back and forth for a week or two with me insisting we weren’t right for each other and him playfully arguing that I was too interesting for him to let me get away.

I’ll admit, I was flattered by his persistence and impressed by his confidence, so I finally agreed to meet at a restaurant for dinner. He was decent looking, although a big hoss of a fellow, and he came across as intelligent, witty, and confident in person. He said he was recently divorced and had a 3 year old daughter.

For reasons I still don’t quite understand, I nevertheless agreed to join him for ice cream after our meal, and accepted his offer to drive.

We live near the coast and somehow he talked me into pulling into a parking lot near a public beach to chat and finish our ice cream. Although I didn’t really think it would work out, I let him kiss me (What can I say? It had been a while) and when it got a little too hot and heavy, I stopped it and said I was ready to head back to my car. He started whining and begging me for sex, saying that I couldn’t just leave him in turned on like that. At first I laughed it off, but he grew increasingly desperate, telling me he was “about to explode.”

Can’t you just suck it or at least give me a handjob?” “Umm, no,” I said. “I think it’s time to go- NOW.” He got all frustrated and annoyed, like he was offended that I’d been willing to kiss but unwilling to fuck, and I started to get pretty nervous. That’s when he whipped it out of his pants and proceeded to masturbate, right there in the driver’s seat. I was too relieved that this massive dude hadn’t tried to rape me to feel scared, and I had to force myself to look away, trapped in a combination of absolute horror and fascination.

He sat there stroking away enthusiastically, moaning about how good it felt, while I pressed myself against the passenger door, trying to stay as far away as possible and looking around for potential help in case things got any worse. When he was almost finished, he said in a breathless voice, “Where do you want me to put it?”

Then he casually asked me to pass him a napkin from the glove box so he could clean up his mess.

A few months later, I was eating pancakes at IHOP with my new boyfriend (now husband), and I spotted the Masterdater eating with a woman and a 3 year old little girl. Both of them were wearing wedding rings, and from the look of panic on his face when we briefly made eye contact, I feel pretty sure he was married the entire time we corresponded. After what I’d let him get away with, I was very tempted to go over and ask him if he’s whacked off on any first dates lately. If only the kid hadn’t been there. —Anonymous

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