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“My Most Embarrassing Date Ever…”


Think you’ve had some mortifying moments while single? These true tales prove it could be much, much worse.

By Kimberly Dawn Neumann

t comes with the territory: As a single person, you’ll rack up some bad dates, some really bad dates, and some totally mortifying dates. And those stories are the ones most of us love swapping. So listen in as some Happen readers share their most, um, memorable rendezvous with you.

Don’t choke
“On a first date once, we were eating chips and salsa as an appetizer. He was telling some joke, and when I laughed at the punch line, I inhaled the chip a bit too hard and it lodged in my throat: Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe at all! There was salsa pouring out of my mouth, and I was doing that choking
“We were eating chips and salsa and he was telling a joke. When I laughed, I inhaled the chip a bit too hard and it lodged in my throat: Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe at all!”
signal to him. So he came around and started beating on my back. After a few scary seconds, the chip finally dislodged itself. I don’t even want to think about what I looked like at that moment, all stained with salsa. It took me the whole night of apologizing to feel comfortable around him.”
—Stephanie, Atlanta, GA

Buzz kill
“One time I agreed to go to a haunted house for Halloween with a guy, despite the fact that I hate haunted houses. No matter how cheesy, I get irrationally afraid. This one was set up in the woods in Louisiana. It wasn't bad at first: the requisite bowls of stuff you put your hand in, the rocking chair with a witch rocking in it who lunges at you. Then, just when I thought we were coming out of the woods, I heard the rip-start of a chainsaw and ‘Jason’ from Friday the 13th, hockey mask and all, comes tearing toward us. I freaked. And I mean freaked! I started running, full speed, through the woods, shrieking like a wounded animal. I could hear my date saying, ‘It's OK,’ but I kept running until I hit the parking lot…and a concrete parking bumper. I tripped, then skidded on my face and hands. It was terrible. We spent the rest of the evening picking gravel out of my skin.”
—Molly, Chicago, IL

Nice catch—not
“I was dating this guy, and it was the first time I was meeting his family so I was really trying to fit in. So when a game of football on the beach nearby started up, I jumped into the game even though I’m not really into sports. How hard could it be? Well, let’s just say I was terrible. I missed throw after throw. When my guy made a toss in my direction, I attempted to redeem myself with a brilliant catch—but instead felt the ball completely jam my fingers. Not wanting to appear weak, I tried to shake it off. But then we moved on to tennis. Not only was I terrible at that too, every time the ball hit my racquet, I felt excruciating pain. Finally my fingers got so swollen, I had to go to the hospital, where we discovered I’d shattered the bones in my fingers! It was really embarrassing to have my souvenir of the big date be a cast up to my elbow.”
—Regina, Fairfax, VA

Double-date
“I was pals with this guy Chris, and it seemed our friendship might be developing into something more. So we decided to have an actual date, and I invited him to a dance concert. But when I arrived, Chris showed up…with a date. He’d come straight from yoga and had brought along his instructor, who also thought he was on a date with Chris.
“I invited him to a dance concert. When I arrived, he showed up…with a date.”
When the instructor and I finally put the pieces together, we tried competing for Chris’ attention. I mean, that’s just plain weird! But the best part? By the end of the night, the instructor and I became friends and had a better time than Chris did.”
—Lance, New York, NY

Let ‘er rip
“I felt like a sexy, powerful woman as I pushed my date down on the couch and gave him a passion-fueled stare. I felt sexy and powerful, too, when I straddled him to plant a big kiss on him. Can't say I felt particularly sexy or powerful, though, when my pants split right down the middle.”
—Caroline, Los Angeles, CA

Drool is not cool
“I went to Philly for the weekend to see an old friend. We’d kept in touch and agreed to meet to see if maybe there was something more there. But, while we were eating brunch I ‘gleeked’ a stream of saliva into his orange juice while telling a story. It was so embarrassing. Adding insult to injury, he said, ‘Well, at least I can say I swapped spit with Carrie this weekend!’ Believe me, that was the only spit-swapping we did!”
—Carrie, Nashville, TN

Loves me not
“I became friends with this adorable guy who was very affectionate, always taking me out to dinner or on long romantic walks. We even talked about future plans, like how the next summer we hoped to have picnics, play frisbee, the works. I was so sure he loved me. He even said at one point, ‘Sorry, I just get kind of nervous because I'm trying to impress you.’ Finally after many outings, I decided to go for it and leaned in for a kiss. Well, he was quite surprised and said ‘Sweetie, I thought you knew: I’m gay.’ I was so mortified. Fortunately our friendship survived, but I definitely had to have my gay-dar adjusted.”
—Jenny, New York, NY

Rebounds and drinking don’t mix
“I was on one of my first dates after being dumped and was so nervous I decided to cope by drinking...a lot. By the end of the night, I was completely wasted, so when the guy I was out with suggested he give me a piggyback ride right at the bar, I jumped on his back, causing us both to crash to the floor! It took several bystanders to help us to our feet. Then, staggering back to the car for my ride home, I managed to stumble into two cars, setting off their alarms. When I finally got in his car, I was sick all over the dashboard. It was then I realized that I might need a little more time to ‘bounce back’ from my breakup."
—Erica, London, UK


Kimberly Dawn Neumann is a New York City-based writer who once had an embarrassing date where she had a few too many Jell-O squares that no one had bothered to tell her were spiked!

Think you’ve been on a date that qualifies for our Hall of Shame? Let us know about it; your story might be featured in a future issue of Happen.

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