So for the sake of commiserating—and your reading and giggling pleasure, of course—I've gathered a few hilarious dating stories gone wrong. And share your own below."I wanted to give my boyfriend a sneak peek of this new lingerie I'd bought, so I snapped a pretty racy picture with it on—and sent the photo to my mom," says one woman.
I had done the grieving (there wasn't a lot) and had gone on a few dates.
I'd even spent some time out of town, but then returned to the big(ger) city. Turns out that a friend of a friend had given him my number, and he thought I was cute.
Every time I tried to steer the conversation towards his interests or some kind of mutual ground, he would come out with questions like "So what's your favorite show on MTV?
" and "So how about that Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman? I was bored to tears and couldn't wait to get out of there.
Well, it can if it’s the third date with the man of your dreams. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that’s “Silent But Deadly” for you prudes). I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks.
I’m not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn’t want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a 15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard. Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn’t allowed myself to eat in years. Gas strikes in two different ways - uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn’t feeling well and probably needed to head home. “Seriously, you need to hurry - I’m in a lot of pain.” I managed to say through gritted teeth. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. I didn’t want to be “that girl” so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn’t having any of it. One afternoon we got together some friends and went out on the lake.When it was my turn to ski, I fell down like a champ—and came back up without my bikini top!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?