A buddy of mine is getting back in the dating scene after (finally) getting out of an extensive, useless long-distance relationship. He was out at a social event and seemed to make a connection with a girl who was a distant acquaintance of another guy he knows. She's not quite his type, but he figures that this is a good opportunity to get back on the horse [1]. They start emailing back and forth and it's all going pretty well until he agrees to go out with her on the weekend. Then he gets that email that starts: "I have something I have to tell you, and it's really hard for me to say this so I'll do it in an email instead of in person..." There was more baggage listed in that email than in the Samsonite catalog. Multiple kids, abusive boyfriends, eating disorders, multiple husbands (including one that she was still married to and living with, but "in the process of separating," etc.) etc. etc. To my buddy's credit, he went through with it and went out with her. It was OK, but no spark, so it's unlikely they'll go out again. FOCUS: When have you been baited and switched: made a connection with somebody and everything is going fine, only to have a bomb dropped on you later? [1] Figuratively, and, he hoped, literally.
Honestly, the only time I can remember was Junior year of college when a girl who I had drunkenly made out with said she wanted to visit me during winter break and have some fun. Note that she was already planning to stay with me in my bed, it's not like there was a level of game I had to lay down to get her to stay with me. I took this as "let's fuck the shit out of each other for a week." Well, unfortunately she wanted to take it slow and build up a relationship first... What? I honestly don't understand what the fuck she was thinking, I was a guy she drunkenly kissed at a party one time and she thinks the best way to parlay into a relationship is by sleeping with me, but not having sex with me? She didn't even know who I was, why didn't she wait another two weeks for school to start back up and try regular dating? Not that I would have gone for that, going on actual dates when you're in college is fucking stupid, but c'mon. She left after day two, I didn't even get a BJ, fail.
I met a girl at a bar once and we hit it off pretty well. She was funny, pretty, and came across as very smart. I asked her if she would like to go out sometime for a drink and she happily accepted. We texted and chatted on the phone a couple times up until the date which was a week later. I picked her up on a Saturday around 5 as we were going to grab a bite before going to a martini/wine bar (I'm classy like that). As I'm driving she starts telling me about her job and emphasizes with her hands when I see it: a claw. Well, it was more of a deformed hand, kind of like Chris Elliot's in Scary Movie 2, but for the sake of the story, it was a claw. It was smaller than a normal hand and had about 3 and a half fingers. I started drifting away from her story and began thinking about it, judging it. How did I not see this thing before? Was it the alcohol? The dimly lit bar? The excitement that a girl was talking to me? It didn't matter, it was now sitting in my car within an arms reach (pardon the pun). By the time we got to the restaurant, I realized I shouldn't be so fixated on her hand as she really was a sweet girl and I had been looking forward to taking her out all week. We had dinner, then she fed Kuato (just kidding) and we went to the bar afterwards and talked and drank for about 2 hours before going back to my place. We started making out and I realized It was now resting on my back. I tried my best to get through it and took her home at the end of the night. I kissed her goodbye and went home. She never brought it up once during the whole date. And good for her, either she didn't care or just wasn't embarrassed by it. Besides her deformity, I had a good time with her and even (hesitantly) made plans for another date with her but she ended up reconciling with an ex before that. It wouldn't have worked out anyway, for whatever reason...
If you met this girl at UConn, then I swear to God that I shook her hand once. It was at some party and she was with a group of friends, one of which my friend was trying to get with and he needed help from us to occupy the other girls. As we said hello and shook hands, I grabbed hers without even looking at it and recognized that there was much less hand in my grasp than I expected. Later, without being too obvious, I confirmed that it was pretty mangled. I didn't say anything, and she was a really friendly and nice girl--decent looking from what I recall.
I'd gone on a couple of dates with a hot guy I'd met online, and we seemed to really connect. There were none of those awkward pauses or interview/date questions, the conversation flowed well, we laughed a lot, and there was obvious sexual tension. Fast forward to the fourth date. We're back at my place, laid back on the couch, his tongue in my mouth and his hand up my shirt. For some reason he felt this was the perfect time to mention his herpes infection. My pussy has never dried up so fast in my life. We ended up hanging out and drinking beer, and have stayed friends. All in all, he's a pretty cool guy, and I'm so grateful he was honest about it.
This is the shortest, most basic version of this story: Last Fall, when I was visiting home, I ended up talking to a guy who I have had a crush on since Freshman year of high school. He's really good friends with one of my friends' older sisters, so I've hung out with him a lot, but we never actually talked one-one-one. So it was exciting discovering how awesome and fun and easy it was to talk to him. Then we ended up kissing and it was hot and I was so giddy like a little girl and everything was generally exciting. We started talking online, and in the next couple of months I ended up visiting home pretty frequently, and I'd always see him and we'd hang out and smooch. It was the best. I had a crush on him of NSYNC proportions. He was one of the hottest guys I've ever been with, and most like my type, and we had a ridiculous amount in common and got along so well. Our mutual friends were all excited about it too. And then, this happened: Our friends were having a day before Thanksgiving party, and I decided I was done messing around and wanted to bang. At the end of the night we were making out on their couch and I kept suggesting that we go to his house (down the street) and that's when he started saying things like "I have issues" and "You don't want to get involved with me" etc etc and I was saying something along the lines of "I don't care, that doesn't scare me" but in a more drunk and less dramatic/Nicholas Sparks way. We eventually did go to his house, and after a while of fingering me he scratched me and I bled on his WHITE comforter so that obviously stopped the whole inertia of things and allowed him to have time to start freaking the fuck out and saying how he couldn't do this and blah blah. It was humiliating. So I went back to my friends' house and in the morning told them what happened, and they got this guilty look on their face and told me he wasn't lying and that he does have really serious issues that tend to erupt when there's sex involved, but they had decided not to tell me because they thought it would be different with me. They either don't know the whole story with what these issues are, or didn't tell me, so I'm still in the dark of what his problem is. They just assured me that it was bad. After that, we talked a couple more times online and even though he did still seem interested things were already getting weird, and I realized that I was pursuing a long-distance relationship with a guy I already knew was extremely fucked up. So, I stopped, and now we're just friendly. I'm really sad about it. He was the first guy I actually liked in years, and it had been the most promising thing after a year of some completely fucked up situations with guys, so it had been a pretty big deal to me. Waah.
This is a long story, so most of it is spoilered. I've had the worst kind of bait and switch. The kind every heterosexual male on this board secretly fears but assumes is nothing more than a comedic trope used to sell neck scarves and penis radar. It started innocently enough. Spoiler I'm at a dimly lit bar in Chelsea, and I'm throwing back Cosmostinis like there's no tomorrow -- which, at the rate I was drinking, was a very real possibility. I'm talking 4-5 drinks over the course of three hours. Yeah. I was tipsy as a lord and frisky as a year-old kitten, and so when she sat down next to me, it didn't take much more than a sidelong glance from her smoky-lidded peepers for me to begin wondering how I could move her out of the hypothetical side of my "Ladies With Whom I've Danced the Mostly Horizontal Tango List." Thinking back to the alpha male behavior I'd seen in movies, I offered her a cigarette. You can my embarrassment when I realized that I didn't smoke, and instead of a cool cancer stick, I was instead offering to her a mostly eaten packet of strawberry Fun Dip. She took it with a giggle that made her Adam's Apple dance, tucked it into her jeans pocket and offered me her hand. "Michael" I purred demurely. That's an unusual name for a girl. She looked at me oddly, and I assured her that I wasn't judging, in fact, and that my own name was quite unusual in its own regard. Shrugging, she asked me what I was drinking, and reacted with a knowing smirk when I pointed to my drink on one of the plastic placards dotted around the top of the bar. She asked if she could get me another one; unusual for a girl, but I've also liked the more aggressive chicks. Feeling the harsh sweet burn as the remainder of my glass slid coolly down my throat, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "Sure." It was around this time that I noticed that she was a bit different. I couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly; I'd dated plenty of women with larger-than-average hands and dominant energy, but this one was different. I wasn't sure how, at this point. I just knew that there was something I liked about it. A drink or 4 later, we wind up making out against the side of the bar. She asked me if I wanted to go to her place a few blocks away, and I obliged. At this point I was straining against the zipper of my jeans, and I knew I was going to need a release that night -- it might as well come with an audience. We barely made it in the door when the clothes started coming off. Every surface in the appartment bore a different sartorial witness to our passion: a sock hanging limply from the toaster. A t-shirt with the slogan "Milk Does a Body Good" decorating the television. Two pairs of jeans nuzzling on the couch. She was a fantastic kisser. I don't usually go for stubble, but there was something primal about the way it grazed my cheek. Then my chest. Then my thighs. Then -- well, I don't like to kiss and tell, but lets just put it this way -- she pulled my dick so far into her mouth I felt her heartbeat on my balls. I'm no selfish lover, and after I was spent, I pulled down her boxer briefs. And as god as my witness, you're not going to believe what I saw, but a thicket of dark, coarse pubic hair. No lie. This bitch wasn't even a natural blonde.
For a few years running I had every single one of my friends, their significant others, co-workers, etc trying to set me up with quote, "she's absolutely perfect for you!" girl. I don't remember how many blind(ish) dates I went on but it was more than a dozen. All except two were awful. They set me up with every woman from the chick that was waiting for marriage before doing anything more than making out, to a girl I'm pretty sure had spent time in a padded room. After a few of them I became immune to the terrible evening. I would smile, sit through the boring and horrifying stories, fain interest about their cats, siblings they disliked, and parental issues. Then I would save their number under the name Crazy and bid them farewell.
About 6- 7 years ago I met this younger chick online. I was in my early 30's she was about 26. I went past her place and picker her up and went to get a bite to eat, she seemed nice, was reasonably intelligent and kinda cute. But, it turned out that. In no particular order. She had been in a lesbian relationship for 4-5 years. She and her ex-girlfriend had been heavy heroin users and had to go into rehab to clean up. She'd had a kid to some Lebanese dude that had dumped her and fled to Sydney, the kid was about 2 or 3 and he looked like a "heroin baby" , underdeveloped etc. She wasn't doing heroin anymore, but was doing speed and pretty much anything else she could get her hands onto. She was planning on going back to school .... blah blah blah ... I sure know how to find em.
Anti-Focus: I was invited to a friend's party a few weeks ago, and found I didn't really know anyone there. There were 2 girls and about 8 guys, one of the girls was pretty but not great and the other was totally stunning, like a solid 9 or 10. Russian, blonde hair, perfect tits and ass, she is wearing a pair of white stockings that make her legs look amazing, and a fiery personality to go with it. I saw her walking into the building before me and I was floored, and even more so to find we were going to the same party. The party was pretty average, I had a good time but it was a low-key event. As the hours went by, though, this girl was all over me. She sees my motorcycle helmet and starts telling me about her Harley, telling me we should go on a ride some time, etc. Normally I would be ecstatic for this kind of attention, but I'm in a committed relationship, so I flirted with her a bit but was careful to avoid any sexual innuendos and kept everything innocent. Around midnight I told my friend I was heading out. This girl immediately announces she's leaving also. It ended up taking me another 20 minutes or so to finish a couple conversations, and I noticed she hadn't left yet. The minute I grab my coat to leave, she puts hers on and follows me out. As we get in the elevator, she asks me what I'm doing for the rest of the night. Without really thinking I tell her, "I think I'm going to head over to my girlfriend's place." Predictably, this girl's attitude changed immediately and I could see she was a bit pissed for having been led on. I still have her contact info but at this point I don't think it would ever go anywhere. ... This was a strange situation for me because 1) I was flirting with her a bit, but I really didn't make any moves on her (e.g. never invited her to leave with me), and I've never really be in a position where a girl is throwing herself at me like she was, and 2) I actually didn't mean to mention my girlfriend at all; I was just going to be respectful and tell this girl goodnight and let her think I missed the cues, rather than letting her think I was leading her on all night for some kind of ego trip. The funny thing is literally every guy has been played this way before, and I've always thought girls who pull that kind of shit must be either stupid or cruel. It was kind of a strange role reversal that has had me thinking a bit more about the game theory behind picking people up—how to signal proper intentions without also acknowledging the lopsided interest in one party's interest over the other's, etc.
Focus: The only bait and switch I've had to deal with was very recently. This thread http://www.theidiotboard.com/messageboard/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=2029 inspired me to give online dating a shot. So I contact a few ladies and hit it off great with this smoking hot bi girl. We talk on the phone for 5 hours like I used to in high school and decide that we definitely need to meet up and keep the magic going. Well, I went to pick her up and it turns out her pictures might have been taken a couple years or decades ago. I'm not exactly sure how long it takes for someone to go from smoking hot body to land whale but that's how much time had elapsed between the pictures and now.