A Date to End All Dates

I went on a date, a few years ago, that can only be described as nightmarish. This experience was something so traumatic for me, that it will be forever burned in my memory. I don't date much. It's something that's always been awkward for me — I'm never sure how I'm supposed to act, what I'm supposed to wear, etc., and causes some very intense anxiety. I've been told that this is normal, but I personally don't find an evening on the edge of a panic attack particularly appealing, so it makes no sense that I would be a willing participant in a blind date. To my dismay, somehow that's where I found myself. A co-worker insisted that her friend was perfect for me, she was relentless. Eventually, I caved and allowed her to give him my number.

Things started out normal enough, he texted a brief introduction, "Hi, this is Guy, Crystal gave me your number..." I responded in kind, and we texted back and forth a few times over the next week determining a suitable time, date and location. We decided to keep it fairly casual, and opted for an early dinner at Applebee's, possibly going for a drink somewhere afterwards. It was an exceptionally hot day, so I was dressed as light as possible -- jeans, a nice tank top, and comfy sandals. When he showed up in jeans and a T-shirt, I thought it was a good sign. Nice and casual, a relaxed date. Guy was an attractive man, not knock out gorgeous, but appealing to look at, and he had a nice smile. I was hopeful for something less tense than I was accustomed to.

We arrived at the restaurant, that wasn't particularly crowded at that hour, and were seated immediately. He ordered a steak, I ordered a burger, and we waited for our food to come. It was slightly awkward — conversation was strained; we didn't know enough about each other to be comfortable, and we were having trouble getting to that place where you can relax and enjoy a first date. Neither of us wanted to ask or share anything overly personal, and there are only so many things you can say about the weather. Awkwardness aside, I thought he seemed like a nice guy. Perhaps an after dinner drink would loosen things up a little bit.

When our meals were eaten, and dessert refused, the server dropped the check. Out of habit, I pulled out my wallet and put sufficient money on the table to pay for my meal and an appropriate tip. Apparently, this was the wrong thing to do. Guy stared at me for a minute like I was growing a third head. Then he started hammering me with questions, in a tone that suggested that my very existence was an offense to him. "What kind of woman pays for herself on a date? What made you think that was appropriate to wear on a date? What kind of woman doesn't wear make-up on a date? What kind of woman orders a burger on a date?..." It felt like hours, but I'm sure it was only five or ten minutes. He verbally assaulted everything from my appearance to my laugh to my job, all because I attempted to pay for my own meal. When he was done, he put my money in his wallet, paid the bill, and took me home without a word.

I never heard from him again, except when my co-worker asked the next day why I would pay for myself on a date. To which I responded, "Why wouldn't I?"

Most people would just chalk that up to a simple bad date and move on. After a break up of epic proportions a few years earlier, I was finally feeling human and regaining my confidence when this happened. This one awful person, and this one abominable experience almost broke me again. It took me months to realize that I didn't do anything to deserve that kind of treatment, and that there wasn't anything wrong with me.

#MyWorstDate