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Ok here goes, I met this guy online and we talked on the phone for a couple of weeks before we setup a date. When we met the first time he had a big bunch of flowers I thought that was so sweet, the next night we had our second date he brought more flowers which is even sweeter.. Then our third date he wanted to watch a movie so he came over my house and we watched a movie. The entire time before and after these dates he called me everyday and we got along wonderful. This is a man who called me every day and brought me flowers and to movies and dinner and was totally nice to me. He called me to setup a forth date and I said ok, he ended up having to work late so he called me at 8:00 I told him I understood and we can go out another time. He proceeded to say he did thinking at work and didn't feel there was a romantic connection, he did feel there was a physical attraction (hint hint) but nothing more, he then tripped over his words to break up with me. I have no idea what happened but why would men bend over backwards be sweet and continue to call a woman and set up dates if he is not interested in her?

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Does this count? I'd been dating a guy for about 6 weeks, with total bliss and love all around (or so I thought). We planned a beautiful getaway to a remote mountain cabin. He was driving my car up the last half-mile to the cabin and hit a rock. Didn't think anything of it, and he kept driving. We had a decent time at the cabin (confession, kinda boring), but then, a few days after we got back, he not only broke up with me, but I found out my car needed $1000 worth of repairs!!

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That totally counts! Awful. So, here's mine (my active dating years seem so far behind!): My senior year of college, I was set up on a "blind date" with a friend of mine -- great looking guy, total sweetheart, and someone I'd always adored. To me (and to him), it was such a natural and yet surprising situation -- "of course, how could I have failed to see what was right in front of me?" The night was fantastic and ended in the throes of passion potential. We made a plan to attend a school formal that same weekend, and were so thrilled by the surprising shift in our relationship status that we made plans to have lunch away from campus the next day. So... He comes to pick me up and we drive to this slightly dumpy Italian restaurant -- I'm trying to think the best, shifting dumpy to "charming and rustic" in my mind. We're the ONLY two people being served. So, my friend says, "Hey, I have a coupon for this place." Then he proceeds to say that, in fact, he has TWO coupons, and that we can redeem them both (they were for a free lunch entree) IF WE DON'T SIT AT THE SAME TABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I proceed to demur: "No, we have to sit together -- we're on a date! Don't worry, I'll pay." He tries to convince me to stick with his plan ("After all, we're the only two in here, and we can sit at adjoining tables."), but eventually resolves his inner dilemma by letting me pick up the check. I was mortified and totally turned off. Too bad, too, because he was and I expect still is, lovely. For me, nothing kills the glow quicker than obnoxious cheapness.

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It was 1996 in San Francisco...
It was before everyone had cell phone but he had one and used to call me from his friend's car on his phone. He seemed very with-it and was fun and tall and quirky. He made me cookies when I moved into my new place in the Mission District. He'd asked me a few times but I demurred, sulking over a long-distance break-up. But it was time for me to get out there and get dating. So I finally said yes.

I worked the overnights (radio news), going to work at 1:30 a.m. A weekend night would have been best but he wanted Tuesday. I said okay but that I had to be home by 9:30 p.m. to go to bed. A very small window but sufficient for a first date and a two hour meal. 8:00 p.m.: So he showed up an hour late. On foot. We walked to the Slo Club. Only a mile away through gangland. Seriously. We heard shots on our walk.

Slo Club was immensely popular. We waited nearly two hours for a table. 9:45 pm: He talked the whole time about his parents' divorce and his relationship with his mother. He ordered a an appetizer, then dinner, then dessert. 11:00 p.m. I ordered a neat bourbon to keep me from going nuts while he ate something small and chocolately. He ate it slowly. He kept talking. I am so tired that I am about to fall asleep at each blink. There was no hurry in him.

The bill comes. He looks at the tab and says that's forty for each of us. I said, why don't you let me get this - to end the night faster, to have no obligation whatsoever. I pay with a credit card. We get outside and I see an idling cab. He says let's walk. I decline and I hop in that cab and I am free. I stay up and get no sleep before work because it is only an hour.

A bad date. But it would have been fine and funny if I liked him. Which at the end of it, I certainly did not.

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So I "took one" for the team . . .
In undergrad, I was the college speech team captain. My coach wanted to recruit a new debator and after I interviewed this guy, he asked my coach for my email address and it was given on demand. My coach then asked if I wouldn't mind going out with the new prospect, and I agreed to go, even though I wasn't attracted to him at all. We went to dinner, and the conversation went like this:

HIM: Talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself

ME: Really? I have a story about that-

HIM: Talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself
talkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyselftalkaboutmyself

You get the picture.

So, we go out to a dinner and even though he asked me, he ducked out of the check by hiding out in the bathroom FOREVER. He then asked for a kiss at the end of the date. So, I went ahead and let him "do the deed," and you wouldn't believe it, but he was able to alien-suck my entire head into his mouth with one kiss. A rare talent this boy had, but a talent nonetheless. He asked if he could email me, and I said yes (thinking nononononono!) and politely ended the date.

The kicker? He wrote me an email and said that he found someone else, and though he had a nice time, he was going to have to let me go. Hilarious.

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2002, Seattle
I met this guy during my online dating phase. He seemed a bit out of touch with current fashions in his photos, but I was trying to keep an open mind. He sounded reasonable and sane on the phone and in email, so I agreed to meet for dinner.

We met for dinner at a small, ridiculously warm, Italian restaurant. As I sat there sweating lightly and listening to his stories about being an arborist, it became clear this wasn't going to work. We had nothing in common. I decided to finish dinner and then politely end the date.

Unfortunately, that was ample time for him to astound me with his bizarre and creepy conversational stylings. Early in the date, he started pushing me to see his place in the country. He lived in a very rural and isolated area. I demurred, saying I loved the city and am rarely talked out it. Ignoring my polite refusals, he kept pushing. I had to repeatedly decline to leave the city for any reason and pointed out that my own rural upbringing left me with such a bad taste in my mouth that I would never live outside the city again. Still not daunted, he continued to spin the story of his idyllic life working with a wealthy family's garden. Since he lives on an island, he segued into a story about waiting for the ferry.

I tuned out a bit at that point. I was counting the minutes and wondering why the service was so slow. When I tuned back in, the story had taken a darker turn. It involved a dog, a ferry, some angry shouting, and some kind of discipline to keep the dog from barking. Slowly, it dawned on me that this story was going to end with "...and that's how I got arrested for animal cruelty." Sure enough, he wrapped up the story with that line and wanted to talk about his trials with the law. After that, he returned totrying to get me to visit his place.

74 minutes. The date lasted 74 minutes and I should have bailed after we got seated. The only upside was that I got much more forward about ending future dates early, never doing more than coffee, and always having an escape route.