I have written in my bio that I want men to answer a specific question in their first message. I also explicitly stated that if they don't answer this question in a full sentence, I won't reply.

I even took a screenshot of my bio and added it to my profile twice. Once after my first picture and once after my second picture. So even the men who don't read bios will see it while looking through my pictures.

Why do dozens of men message me, yet not a single one answers the question? Not a single one starts the conversation with an answer to that question.

I genuinely don't understand.

Like, what exactly are they expecting to happen when they message me?

Edit: incredible how triggered men get, as soon as a woman doesn't just say YES! to every man no question asked haha and wants compatibility 😂 y'all have no idea what my question is, but your fantasies go wild that it has to be something reaaally offensive 😂 nothing is as fragile as the male ego haha

So here I am. Back on the interwebs dating scene. Hot off the heels of a three month stint with a girl that ended up being a jobless, alcoholic, pathological liar who eventually ended up selling herself on craigslist to make rent (found all of this out at once). But hey, that's a whole 'nother story.

Let's talk about this past Saturday. This past weekend I had a second date with a very attractive girl who seemed really awesome and funny. We totally clicked on the first date so we set something up for the weekend.

After hitting a bbq and a friends backyard for some late night drinks, we decided to go back to my apartment. Over drinks we discussed many things. We talked and talked and I was starting to think I met someone really cool.

The subject of politics came up. She slowly began to reveal her right wing leanings to me (I'm pretty liberal but open minded). I wanted to hear her out and perhaps gain some insight into how other people see the world. No problem

Well, until she got to obama and uttered the words muslim nigger.

I was like "hold up. Pause. Did you just say muslim nigger?"

She then erupted into one of the most frightening racist tirades I have ever witnessed. Nigger this, nigger that. Black people should all be sent back to Africa blah blah blah.

I was in shock. I politely told her that I don't think this is going to work and perhaps she should leave.

Her response: "no".

To which I replied: Uhhhh, ok. How about get the fuck out of my home you racist piece of shit"

To which she then replied: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

This is when shit got out of hand. She proceeds to grab a wooden barstool in my living room from the feet and overhand swing it right at me. It came crashing down on my collar bone. I. WAS. TERRIFIED.

I ran out into the hallway to escape her. She then proceeded to start throwing all my shit around the apartment. I came back in doing my best to speak gently and tell her to calm down.

Another weird thing: While she was rampaging around my living room screaming something about being satan and how she is going to murder me, she was steadily disrobing until she was buck naked and shrieking at the top of her lungs.

She then went into her purse, took out her FULL bottle of wellbutrin, dumped half of it in her mouth and then pinwheeled the rest allllll over my living room (I'm still finding antidepressants in my shoes).

This is when she just passes out naked on the floor.

So I did the responsible thing and hollered at my friends who were still partying on a rooftop nearby. Drank some beer. Got some hugs. Laughed a lot.

Crazy bitch was out cold so I figured my place was safe.

After about two hours I go back home. She's just beginning to sit up on the couch and mess with her phone. She sees me and proceeds to jump on me and tear my clothes off.

I'm like "bitch, do you think I'm going to fuck you after what just happened?"

And I did. It was great.

Afterward she seemed a bit more calm and that her psychotic episode had passed. I asked her if I could take her out to breakfast. I didn't really want to, but I had to get her out of my place. She said yes.

I was desperately looking for my way out when she asked to stop at the bodega to pick up smokes. I told her I'd wait outside.

I hoofed it.

I blocked her number.

Went to brunch and had arguably the best story told that day.

TL;DR Brought a girl home. Ended up trying to kick her out for being racist. She smashed me with my own stool. Had sex.

Edit: A screencap of our last text before I blocked her, after she got home http://i.imgur.com/IWAfvg0.jpg

Not that I couldn't have faked that too. But I assure you this happened.

I’m only saying men because I’m a woman who has only dated men. I don’t know what it’s like dating women so please don’t grill me for only talking about men.

I just got rejected again even though every man always seems to think I’m so beautiful kind smart interesting bla bla bla because they weren’t immediately in love with me. I went on my first date in like a year this weekend and it went really well, we had fun and talked so much about everything but there was no touching or kissing or anything and he texted me a few days later and said he didn’t feel there was no romantic tension and he thought I just wanted to be friends. just because I didn’t want to jump his bones or touch his body when we are literal strangers he thinks that means its just a friendship vibe.

what upsets me even more is the men who I did feel comfortable with enough after some time to do physical things with, even they didn’t feel romantic towards me which I don’t get, I thought the intense physical attraction meant there is romance??? what do men want???

I 28(f) went on another date with 25(m). Everything was going well, we matched on tinder, went on a few dates, and were texting regularly. A decent start to something.

On this last date, I got a major case of the ick.

For context, I work at a sex store, I write smut, I read smut, I have even made content, and I listens to songs that make WAP look like gospel music. I am generally a sex positive person. I don’t do ANYTHING to hide this information.

After our Dave n busters date, we drove around town just talking, listening to music, and getting to know the other.

Nicklebacks animals came on and we belted out the lyrics to that. Not exactly a really explicit song but I’m setting up the dynamics. Not too long after that, cupcakKe deepthroat came on. And he is bopping like white men do. 2:27 into the song. We are yell singing this song and laughing afterwards.

Lyrics for context: (this is the part we were screaming with our whole chest)

Finna get the dick wet and firm You better sweat me out of my perm Can’t wait till it’s my turn I wanna blow bubbles with sperm Wanna hit it from the back? Let me arch my back Once I arch my back, that mean attack this pussy Don’t need a pornstar cause I’m the moderin All my spit on this dick sound like I’m garglin Make’em bust three nuts is the test My panties stuck in my ass.

We drove back to where his truck was and were making our goodbyes. We didn’t want to go but I had work… at the sex store…

He tells me “you talk too much about sex.” Randomly while we were in the last few minutes of the date.

I can’t. I talk about sex in some form every day. Not only is sex my job, I read it, I write it, I listen to it! I made sure all the information was available to the poor souls who want to try to be with me. I wanted to avoid this very situation because I know I am a lot so I refuse to be with someone who wants less.

Time to listen to Too Much by Dove Cameron I guess.

I used to volunteer in a library where I handled a renowned academic's personal correspondence collection. One of my first jobs as a volunteer was to organize his correspondences by date sent/received. There were thousands of letters -- talk about DatingHell.

Would you leave immediately or would you laugh it off?

Feel free to share your experiences and stories about this topic

*dated

Well, I today she leaves the house.... Wedding ring on the proper finger... Is gone for three hours after the initial trip would've only been almost an hour... Like wtf comes home now with ring on the right hand ring finger... And all evening she has had this horrible attitude towards me? Is she cheating

Met her, a Law student F24 through a private members group.

She was upfront from the start.

"I'm not looking for love. I just need 💸💸💸someone who can make life a little less stressful while I finish school."

Perfect.

Neither was I.

We'd usually meet once every week or two. Sometimes dinner, sometimes a weekend trip, sometimes we'd just stay in and watch terrible movies.

There was never any pressure to text every day.

In fact, we barely did.

Months went by without any issues.

Then I noticed something strange.

She started saying no.

"Want to fly to Cebu this weekend?"

"I have to study."

"I can book you a spa day."

"I'm okay."

"I'll send you something for finals."

"No need. I already budgeted for it."

I actually thought she was preparing to end the arrangement.

Instead...

She began inviting me into the normal parts of her life.

She asked if I wanted to try the tapsilog place she always ate at after class.

She wanted me to meet the stray cat she'd been feeding outside the library.

She'd call while walking home just to complain about professors.

No fancy restaurants.

No hotels.

No expensive gifts.

Just... ordinary moments.

One evening she said something that made everything click.

"I think my favorite part isn't the arrangement anymore."

I asked what it was.

She smiled.

"It's that I get excited to tell you about my day."

That was the moment I knew we'd crossed a line.

Not physically.

Emotionally.

I told her I couldn't give her the kind of relationship she was slowly building in her head.

She understood.

We hugged goodbye, wished each other well, and never saw each other again.

Funny enough...

The arrangement didn't end because of money.

It ended because somewhere along the way, the expensive dates stopped mattering.

She had started valuing the ordinary ones instead.

I didn’t know her too well. I couldn’t even tell someone that I was in the friendzone. It was more like the acquaintance zone. I did however like her, only because she looked good, which isn’t a very good reason to like someone, at least in western culture.

Let’s call this girl Annie. Annie was a typically chill girl, but not a very controlled. She swore a lot, and had relationships which her parents would not allow if they found out. I really liked her...as an acquaintance. She enjoyed talking to me and I enjoyed talking to her. Me being an idiot, I thought she was an easy grab, only because she seemed like the type of person no one would want to date, which was shameful on me.

Me, Annie and this other girl, let's call her Lucy, who is 15 years old went out to eat. During that time, we played truth or dare. We mostly stuck with truth since we didn’t want to anything stupid in the restaurant. I always sat next to her whenever I could. Usually I would have trouble looking people in the eye when talking, but I just wanted to stare at her all day long. During our little game, she asked me a very personal question, who do I like. I didn’t know what to respond. Lucy insisted I told Annie and her, but I declined and said I would text Lucy on the subject later. We went home, and greeted each other goodbye.

One thing you don’t know about Lucy and Annie is that the two are the best of friends. Being a fresh immigrant from Canada, I knew about their former friendship but not to the extent of friendship that it gets complicated. The lack of knowledge that I had made me regret what I was about to do.

I texted Lucy, and told her, because I thought I could feel somewhat confident with Lucy. Lucy and I were friends, more than me and Annie. I told Lucy I liked her, and she was nothing but shocked. She fired back just like the Americans at the Japanese during World War II. I then received the painful words, “She has a boyfriend…” I wasn’t yet done with Annie. She then promised not to tell anyone, including Annie.

I interrogated Lucy, asking her certain questions. I found out they would be going to different high schools, and I decided that I would make my move once they split up. I also looked up her boyfriends name on the internet, and he seemed like a complete loser! I knew they would break up, and waited until Post-October, as I call it, occured.

Over time, I ended up going through a lot of mental strain in high school, it was quite painful. I would usually not have anyone be there for me. But Lucy was such a sweet girl. She always had a shoulder to lay on, and an arm to lend. All this made me end up liking her, despite her being two years older than me.

Two hours before doomsday, me and two other folks go out to eat. Annie and Lucy are hanging out somewhere else. This girl, let's call her Barbara asks me a question.

“Do you still like Annie?”, she asked with a very sassy voice. The other guys at the table, let’s call him Bill, begins to laugh at the top of his voice.

“Who told you this?”, I was mad, and stern.

“I can tell, you always act nice around her!”, she said. I knew that was an utter load of poop, and knew who did it.

Lucy…

She told her, and let the whole secret get around the group. Then, Barbara takes out her phone and texts Lucy.

“Bob likes you” Not aware of that, I text Lucy also, and ask her how this occurred. She first blames Barbara, and then diverts the topic, asking me if I like her. Barbara shows me her phone and explains how she knows.

I said yes.

I waited, the message was marked as read, but she didn’t respond 10 minutes after reading it. Then, doomsday occurs.

“You’re like a little brother to me”

After the whole incident, I thought we could be friends again, but she took way to much pride in rejecting me. She would always ask whether I am over her or whether I was over Annie. It all took a turn when she turned 16 years old. She must have hit puberty or something. She would always brag about her things, her drivers licence, her grades, her participation in the IB programme, her boyfriend which she wasn’t even allowed to have. She would indirectly taunt me about rejecting me, and tell about how she dated before in an attempt to taunt me. And it worked, I felt uncomfortable around her.

Eventually, I got sick of it. I attempted to declare cold war on her, but she just kept being herself to me.On the night before new years, I separated myself with my other friend into another room. It was time to come down for new years. We counted down, and it was new years. I shook everyone's hand, and awkwardly shook Lucy’s hand, and thought cold war was successfully declared on her. But she came back again, saying the following.

“Happy new years Bob, let’s hope this new year will be better for you” She gave me a warm hug, and held my hand. I then became on better terms with her again.

We were friends, but not without her stupid pride in rejecting me. She would continue to ask me stupid questions about the whole incident.

I had enough. On my brother’s birthday, I locked myself in my room and played video games on call with my friends from Montreal. As I just blurted out a French swear word, my dad bangs on the door and tells me to come downstairs for the party. Lucy comes up with him.

“Guess who finally came out for the party”, she said. I ignored her. My dad then noticed the trash can which was out of place. We both went to fix it. My dad told me to fix it and he went downstairs. Lucy stayed, expecting me to say something.

“Hi Bob”, she said in a manner which seemed like she wanted my attention. I ignored her. “Hi Bob”, she said again. “Hi”, I said in a stern and angry voice. She went downstairs, knowing I was mad at her, never to talk to me again.

To this day, we are still enemies, She to this day does not know why I am so mad at her. But one thing is for sure, we will never be friends again.

The amount of hatred I have for her is so much. I even have a victory day for when she goes to college, and I’ll never see her darn face again.

Annie and I are on neutral terms, we still occasionally talk and greet. I don’t really hate her. If anything, I feel bad for her for putting her in the middle of this whole situation.

https://youtu.be/t-wZk6ZnWx8

I can relate to some parts of this. Not the terminal cancer, thank God. But the parts about being sick with ongoing health problems, and an ex leaving in part because of it. My XBF dumped me right before my infertility problems took a turn for the worse, causing me not only the embarrassment of infertility and lots of physical discomfort and belly weight gain, but right before my condition skyrocketed into affecting my overall health, my ability to walk, and my ability to get through the simplest functions in basic everyday life. We had supposedly wanted a baby together eventually, and when he dumped me, it seemed like he was tired of me when I had all these health issues. I went through my major surgery myomectomy all alone, because he had dumped me months earlier and didn't stay in contact. He did get back with me a month or so after my surgery, but in value of heart never did, because he acted every bit as single behind my back (it was a long distance relationship; we lived 1 hour apart) as he apparently had acted before we got back together. I've had friends not listen to me and thanks to Facebook, I do get to find out that like 80% of the girls in my high school graduating class are now engaged, married, pregnant, or have multiple children by now. The other 20% seem confident without marriage or kids, travel overseas frequently, are more thin and fit now than they were even back in high school, have plush jobs, are traveling yoga instructors, etc. They are athletic and skinny with interesting healthy lives. Even at least some of them are in relationships, so who knows when they'll be announcing engagements, probably soon. Meanwhile, I'm fired from my job, still in a small 2bd overpriced apartment in an overpriced state that I'm currently "trapped" in, and no relationship since the aforementioned toxic XBF who knocked up some younger chick. It sucks. Not as much as cancer, but it sucks.

TL/DR: I found a video that shows how sad people in bad situations feel when people who have it all talk over them and brag. I don't have terminal illness like the girl in the video, thankfully, but I did lose my job and also my BF while sick. While everyone else is bragging on social media pics of their engagement rings, weddings, kids, or pics of them doing complicated yoga poses in Paris while in better shape than their already-thin athletic selves were back in high school. It sucks.

I dumped this guy and made it clear I don’t want to see him However he text me trying to talk to me a while later. I’m most definitely not interested and if I were him I wouldn’t talk to me again after everything I’ve done . This is scary. He once bothered me for ,weeks because I didn’t want him

Hey everyone I just wanted to say even though ATM I got friendzoned I had the courage to ask a crush out.

I'm not overly the moon but atleast I tried I can alway's say that I tried.

Onwards and upwards motherfuckers.

TLDR: I went on a date that wanted me to stay a sidewalk width apart; and utterly turned me down just on looks alone.

We met on hinge, talked via voice chat for a few days, probably 3 hours total. We had quite a lot of chemistry, and I mean it was pretty natural chemistry. We were both interested in hearing what the other person had to say.

Financially, we are both pretty up there: upper middle class jobs, six figure incomes for each of us, we're both well educated, and have a similar background. We even work in the same industry.

Chemistry ✅ Financially Stable and financial equals: ✅ Similar life goals: ✅ Her Age: early 30s My age: mid 30s I am not bald (thank God) and have a full head of hair styled well My face:5.5 - 6.5 /10 Her face: 6-7/10 But I am overweight: 230lbs My Height: 6'2" Her height: 5'9"

We seem to tick all the boxes that should make for an easy first date. But the moment she saw me IRL, she quite literally started walking backwards like a frightened child. Except her microexpressions we're that of disgust or anger, not fear. She was visibly and obviously repulsed and disgusted by me, just due to being overweight. (My profile pictures are taken at angles that make that less obvious, but I do have one that is mildly revealing to that)

She changed from girl frantically texting me because I was running late, instantly into "I find you gross but I don't want to appear impolite, let's get this over with". We went from lots of chemistry to dead pan in mere seconds.

After that, we proceed to walk to the cafe about a half mile away. The whole way she out loud says: " stay at least a sidewalk's width distance from me" which basically told me she either finds me disgusting or dangerous (I am a big guy, but dangerous is the last word I would describe my gentle self with). So yeah she literally wants a sidewalk all to herself. What kind of absurd crazy person does that? Personal space is one thing, but this is like parking in 4 parking spaces. It's unreasonable. Especially when on a date.

You want to crush someone's self esteem and confidence: get them to feel like they're disgusting to you. Her disgust basically doomed any potential for chemistry from there on.

Anyways, we had our deadpan date that was practically a waste of time. She didn't open up to me at all, or even try to connect. Literally the conversation was so platonically unromantic that even PG sounds like too high a rating.

I left disappointed but also extremely hurt. Not because she rejected me, that happens all the time...fuck I'm so used to it I expect it at this point. But I was hurt because of how she rejected me. Her reaction of continuous disgust, hurt me to my core. And now I'm honestly really fucking depressed about it. More than I normally am after a rejection. Because now not only am I ugly, I'm also disgusting.

I knew it was 100 % looks at that point.

The weird thing is, I have a promising date with someone else lined up soon, but I just can't shake the blow in confidence that this did.

I was on vacation a couple of months ago in Phuket, Thailand. As I was alone and want to make friends and have fun, I tried couchsurfing app. There, I received a message from a Pakistani guy about the possible hang out as our dates in Phuket matched. So, we decided to meet at a mall, finalized a spot through google maps and set the time. I was waiting there that suddenly a very good looking, handsome, tall Middle Eastern guy approached me and said hi along with my name. I was a bit confused and just wanted to say something that he introduced himself as the same guy. I was so shocked and happy thinking that tonight would be a good night. We decided to try some new cuisine and ended up trying Persian which was new to both of us. He had a mixed race i.e. Pakistani and Arab. I was so flat on him and wanted to hook up with him. He was naturally a very nice guy, sophisticated and educated. The food was not good but the meeting was awesome. After that I asked him for a walk and drink at bar but he excused that he doesn't drink due to reliogious factor. The stupid mistake I made was that I angrily refused to go on walk or relax and beach. And we ended up the night on the road side saying good bye in very awkward way. The things I like about him is that he didn't touch me, didn't talk any bad thing, was not a perv, was not staring the girls around. I think he was a perfect type of bf for any girl. We still text sometimes but I seriously miss him and that night. I could have acted in other way to make that more beautiful but alas! :-(.

When together with someone you love everything he does, even fart in front of you ! 😂 seems to be amazing but if someone you dislike even breathing in front of you is not a right thing .😵‍💫

A guy sent me a really nice first message. He told me I was pretty, that he was happy we matched, and that he met my non-negotiables.

I replied that I thought his message was lovely, that I was extremely happy he met my non-negotiables, and that I appreciated him telling me without me having to ask.

He replied that those things were extremely important to him too.

And that's it. That's the entire conversation.

Did you notice something? Not a single question was asked.

Men not asking questions is a widely discussed phenomenon across dating apps, and I'm at a point where I'm tired of being the one expected to carry the conversation.

I want a partner who doesn't necessarily have to be dominant or take the lead all the time, but who is capable of doing so. Someone who can take initiative, show curiosity, and contribute to a conversation without needing me to guide it.

And if a man can't do that, we're probably not compatible. That's okay.

I actually love being single. I'm happy with my life, and I don't feel any pressure to find a relationship. So unless someone feels like a really good match for me, I'm perfectly comfortable staying single.

That's why I won't continue a conversation when a man hasn't asked me a single question. Not because I'm angry or trying to punish him, but because I don't want to start a potential relationship by taking responsibility for keeping every conversation going.

The funny thing is, he probably thinks I've ghosted him.

But I haven't. I'd happily reply if he gave me something to respond to. The conversation isn't closed. I'm just not going to carry it on my own.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYp8ub32tno

Terrible dating show and awkward guy lol

O.k., this isn't as Hellish as some of the other dating stories here, but I thought it was pretty bad/funny. I was on a date with a girl and everything was going really well. We started making out in my car (which I hadn't done since high-school) and it was really great--until her tooth fell out right on my tongue. I was so shocked that I pulled away. And even though we tried to recover, we never really got back on the right foot. If you want to read the full account, I posted it here: (http://www.modernromantix (dot)com/2015/11/15/dating-and-dentures/).

Thanks for listening, reddit

I feel like society has a double standard when it comes to men and women. A man can sow his wild oats, party, and have multiple partners, and still be praised for settling down with a 'good' woman who's untouched and innocent. His past is forgotten, and he's celebrated for choosing someone 'pure'. But when a woman does the same, she's judged, shamed, and her past is held against her. Her partner is seen as a 'simp' for settling for someone who's 'used'. It's like society praises men for being men, but shames women for being human. It's really unfair and hypocritical."

So basically this is what tipped me over the edge with my ex. At the time I had been seeing this lass for about 2 years. First it was just a off handed like joke about cheating but then when she started getting comfortable with me the comments started becoming more frequent and common. One point she even asked to smell my manhood as soon as I walked in the door thinking I had been out cheating. Like WTF! When I was doing over time at work I was getting accused. In the end of the relationship I was sat at my mother's death bed basically watching her and being with her in her final momenys while getting texts off my ex accusing me of being out drinking with women! This experience has basically put me off from the whole dating scene and stuff!

Oh hey guys, I guess I wrote another r/DatingHell for y’all. Just thinking back on this one, it was a big mood.

So there I was, lurking the ol’ Bumble, and I match with Genevieve. She’s your typical art girl (not knocking it btw. I actually like me an art girl). Basically everything about her screamed I’m in college for art and art is what I do and half her profile pictures were her paintings, which, to be fair, weren’t exactly my kind of art, but hey, beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that and I can respect someone who puts their creations out there. Well, I stared at em for a bit – a lot of em were just kinda brownish red abstractionist smudges on canvass, but hey, like I said, if it worked for her, well, you go girl, paint those pictures, ya know? So paint them she did, and share them she most certainly did as well.

Anyway, Genevieve and I matched and when she said hey I replied “I’m cheesed to meet you”. We talked for a bit, and surprise, the conversation swerved into art. Me, yeah, I’m a bit of an artist too, so we talked about a lot in that general vein. I don’t profess to be Michelangelo over here, but I can draw something halfway decent when I put my mind to it, so we shared pictures and talked technique. All around, it was a pretty cool vibe. Not every day that I get to talk craft with other folks, since I work in retail and most of the people I work with don’t think beyond going to the bar at the end of the week. (I’ve actually asked many of them what they do for fun and half of them give me a dead fish stare)

Well, I try my luck, and ask Genevieve if maybe she wants to go out sometime after sending her my picture and revealing I am, in fact, not a sandwich. She says that she’s a little busy with school at the moment, but when her semester wraps up, then maybe we could do something then. It was a couple weeks out with summer courses wrapping up and all, and I reply, “you know what? That sounds good. Keep me in the loop.” We talk a bit more about her courses and all that, and yeah, surprise! She’s doing art. She says she’s nervous about her final project, that it’s due in a couple weeks, and she doesn’t’ know what the hell she’s going to turn in because the inspiration just hadn’t hit her yet. A subject most delicatessen, definitely. I figured what better way to win the day than to recommend her something that could get her that A+ she so desperately wanted. I raked my mind for some sort of subject matter that would impress her professor, but I just don’t do abstract. Call me boring, but when I draw I try to be true to form of whatever I’m drawing. Sheepishly, as I fished for any kind of recommendation, I said, “you could paint... a ham sandwich.. in… abstract… of course…”

She laughed at me and called me a dork, which ain’t too far from the truth. Even though I couldn’t save the day by giving her that glowing recommendation for her final that would make her think of me fondly when we finally met up later, I wasn’t hamstringing myself with my terrible taste, either. I wished her luck, telling her that whatever she painted, I’m sure it was going to be excellent and that she should send me a picture of it and let me know how she did afterwards.

We texted a bit throughout the next two weeks, talking about, well, mainly the same thing. Genevieve was very much a one-trick pony when it came to discussion. Didn’t bother me. I just figured Genevieve was just super passionate about what she was into. I admire that. It's why I follow ReddX on YouTube. Honestly, it was kind of refreshing, especially in lieu of my boring social life among my coworkers. Well, eventually one day she texts me and says, “I got it!” She was all bubbly and excited. I wondered what was going on, and I replied, “what hamppened?” (I know. Not my best, but I’m trying, okay?) She sent me an image of her newest painting, and yeah, it was… smudged brown and red paint on a canvas, but this time in horizontal lines all layered on top of each other, with like some swirly bits in the middle of it. My gut told me that asking “what the hell is even that” was rude, so I decided to opt instead for “right on!” Then she asked me if I knew what it was and it hit me like a ton of bricks because, to be honest, I didn’t have a goddamn clue. Felt like if I tried to answer seriously and my answer turned out wrong in that moment, I was gonna blow it all up, so I decided to be my usual dorky self. “Is it a ham sandwich?”

You could hear the girlish squee through the text message. Apparently I had guessed right. It was a very abstract monochrome sammich, absolutely, but a sammich it certainly was. I didn’t expect her to take me seriously, but she did, and she responded, “that’s exactly what it is! And you inspired it. Thanks.” I followed up with a smiley face, coz bitches love smiley faces. She replied it was her best work yet, and I hearkened back to all the other strange, monochromatic pictures on her profile and read what they were supposed to be and then looked at her newest and realized, yeah, it kinda did actually look like a ham sandwich. Abstractionism, man, I just don’t understand I guess. I wished her luck on getting a passing grade and asked her when she would finally be free of her professor’s clutches. She hit me back with “after this Friday, I’m a free woman. Do you want to meet up?”

Hell yeah, Genevieve, I want to meet up. What are you thinking? She’s thinking that she’s gonna invite me over to her studio space. Girl’s got a studio? Dang that’s fancy. Let’s go. So Saturday comes around and I wake up sometime past noon, get dressed, hop in the car, and take that trip out to what’s basically one of those rental blocks in the industrial side of town where you can rent a storage space but also use it as a workshop. I walk down the rows of closed up units before I reach one near the end by a concrete wall that has the shutter up and I can hear inside art girl music playing. I step inside and shout, “hey, I’m here,” and I hear Genevieve from the back say “just a second!” I mill around for a bit checking out her work. Sitting there on an easel is another piece of canvass, this one looking like she’s just started, with the same reddish brown smears all over it. She comes on out holding a paint tray with different reds and browns mixed up on it and her fingers are absolutely coated on it, and I infantilize myself a bit for some humor. I remark, “finger painting, eh? Now that’s something I can understand!” She laughs a bit at this and I think great, we’re off to an awesome start. She’s got a good sense of humor, she’s pretty, she’s got interests. We can hang, Genevieve.

Up in the corner she motions to the sammich she painted and says “it got me an A, by the way,” and I was actually kind of impressed to hear it. It was a silly recommendation, but I guess her teacher saw something in it, and looking at the thing up close certainly beat the resolution of her camera. I could actually see that it was, in fact, a sammich now, instead of a bunch of smudges. I told her “you should probably invest in a better camera if you’re gonna be uploading your art online, because if I can be honest, I struggled a bit to identify what it was in the picture you sent me.” I delivered it gently, but she just brushed it off and said, “yeah, I know, my camera sucks. I hope you didn’t think I was gonna get offended or anything.” And even-keeled. Hot damn. I was liking Genevieve.

“So,” I said, “what do you want to do? Do you wanna go somewhere? You wanna hang out here? I’m down for whatever.” Genevieve smiled and said, “well, I do wanna keep working on what I’m working on. I’d rather hang out here. But maybe we could do something together?” I like activities. I asked, “whatcha thinking?” She said, “do ya wanna paint a picture with me?” Sure, why the Hell not. “Do I gotta finger paint it?” She replied, “if ya want.” When in Rome, right? So, I hoisted up a blank canvass on the easel and her and I set to work, passing the paint tray, dabbing our fingers unceremoniously in monochromatic stain and streaking it across the plain white canvass. We laughed a bit as I vandalized the canvass with a giant dick before she drew some eyes and a vein on it, and then I took my hand and mashed it into the paint tray and started to paint a hand wrapped around it. Screw it, we were having fun, life was good. She called me a perv and flicked some paint at me, so I flicked some back at her, and then she playfully slapped me across the face, leaving a big wet paint mark on my face to dry. We were making a complete mess like a couple of unruly kids. It was a damn good time while it lasted.

But this is far too wholesome for Dating Hell. Don’t think I would just blue ball you guys. Oh no.

It was about three or four in the afternoon. We had been painting for several hours now, messing around, talking about this and that and the other, and the whole canvass, Genevieve, and I had become splattered, paint soaked messes. I was definitely gonna need a shower when I got back to my place. Well, like I said, I had been there for awhile, and I said, “hey, Genevieve, is there a bathroom attached to this place? I gotta go use the restroom.” She said, “yeah, sure, just go through the back. There’s one at the far end.” So, I started towards what was basically a little, walled off section of the studio space. I rounded the corner, and I felt my stomach fall out as I came to terms with what I saw.

On top of a workbench sat a massive, cottony mound, stained with that same reddish brown paint we had been playing with for the last half hour. I leered it with uncertainty as I saw flies swarming about it, and as I approached, I was greeted with a smell I never wanted to smell. You know that smell? It’s like hot copper or burning metal? It was concentrated back here like a perfidious cloud, rising up from the brownish red mound of stained swabs, with each individual swab attached to a precariously dangling string. They had all dried out long ago, like a dessicated mound of disposed feminine hygiene products constructed into a half-sentient bloodmaggot golem, festering in the stagnant heat of a Los Angeles summer afternoon in this workshop of horrors. A shudder ran down my spine as I reconciled with the saturation and tone of the colors in those rags and recollected the coppery tones I had smeared all over the canvass for the last two hours, and then I choked as I practically saw a wet one, pooling with blood on the counter top beside an open box of tampons. Bloody fingerprints decorated the workbench, and I saw childish graffiti on one, a big red bloody heart with my name and hers on each side, drawn in menstrual blood.

I almost retched as I looked down at my hands, at my clothes, my shoes, my skin. Numbly, I touched a hand to my face, scraping off flakes of the dried “paint” that littered the floor. How much of that paint was her fucking rag blood? I didn’t know, but it was all over my fucking face. It was all over her fucking face. It was all over her goddamn hands as if it was the most normal damn thing in the world. She had been finger painting with it the moment I showed up at this freaking studio. As I stood there, processing the shock of the moment, I could hear Genevieve come walking up behind me as I stood shellshocked in the doorway. I could hear her say, “babe? What’s up? The bathroom is in the back.” I didn’t respond at first until she prodded me again. I could feel her hands wrap around me, the wet liquid that clung to her hands seeping into my shirt and staining my torso as her arms closed in. “Babe? Is something wrong?”

I tried to form a sentence, but nothing came out at first. I just stood there, soaking in the sanguinary discharge that perforated the atmosphere as she stood there behind me grasping me tight. Finally, I stammered out, “were we… painting… with your blood?”

I could hear her voice. She sounded hurt. “It’s not all blood. I mix in oils or acrylics, too. What’s the matter?”

I pulled her hands off me and I didn’t reply. I’m not going to lie, but I felt betrayed in that moment. You don’t casually invite a man over to your place and douse him in copious amounts of your menstrual blood without informing him that’s what you’re doing. Hell, if you had announced that you were painting with your period blood to me the moment I got there, I might not have taken it so hard, but to ask me if I want to finger paint with you using your own period discharge without letting me know that that is precisely what I’m dipping my hands in, yeah, I felt betrayed. I just met this girl. I didn’t know if she was clean. She could have been using needles for all I knew at that point in time. What if I had cuts on my hands and had been dipping my fingers in her goddamn blood? For fuck’s sake, I had it on my face, near my goddamn mucous membranes. I ain’t trying to get the HIV or Hep. I’m out here trying to look for a serious partner, damnit.

I booked it right to my car. She was hot on my tail the whole way, yelling after me, trying to fathom what was wrong. I didn’t feel like explaining myself at the time. The only damn thing on my mind was getting home and getting in the shower and sitting catatonic under a running stream of hot water until I felt better about everything. That is precisely what I did. Genevieve eventually gave up trying to reach me by the time I get back out of the shower. I saw that she left me a bunch of messages, apologizing about what had happened. I guess I can grant her that, but still, it didn’t do much to ease my feelings of betrayal that day. I ended up going to Planned Parenthood awhile after the fact and getting tested, just because I wanted to make sure my bill of health was clean. I took a good month break from dating after I got that clean bill of health just to decompress from the stress of it all.

Anyways, guys, that wraps it up for today. Be leery of artists. You never know what the hell they’re up to. Take it easy.

I get the whole point of dating is to see if things work out with someone. But what do you do when they both want something serious and you like them both equally for different reasons?

I (38F) had a first date yesterday with a guy (41M), and it was a masterclass in zero effort behavior. I need to vent, but mostly I just want to reassure myself that the bar is truly in hell.
I arrived exactly on time, but he had already gotten a head start and was drinking when I walked in. Red flag number one, but the conversation was flowing well enough, so I brushed it off.
After my first drink, I asked the bartender for a glass of water. The bartender pointed across the room and casually said, “You can get it from over there.”
My date just looked right at me. He didn’t get up, didn't offer to grab it for me, nothing. Just sat there like a useless bystander while I went to fetch my own water. I let it go in the moment to keep the peace, but he just kept chugging. By the time we left that first spot two hours later, he had slammed about 6 drinks.
We moved to a second place, and his pace didn't slow down, he ordered another 4 drinks. I only had one drink and some food here. At the end of the night, I politely offered to split/pay for the second check. (Looking back, I absolutely shouldn't have done that considering he treated the night like an open bar)
He immediately jumped at the idea. Didn’t even hesitate or do the polite "are you sure?" dance. Just straight up let me pay.
Needless to say, he will not be seeing me again. Blocked and deleted. Please tell me I'm not crazy for being totally disgusted by the lack of chivalry and the heavy drinking?
#

I need some outside opinions because I think I might be spiralling a little. 😭
I’m 21, a Black woman, and I started talking to a 26-year-old British guy on Hinge about a week ago. We clicked pretty quickly. We were sending each other long messages, having really good conversations, and he eventually gave me his number. We arranged a date for the following weekend.
The date was honestly amazing. Probably one of the best dates I’ve had.
He was a gentleman, we laughed constantly, talked for hours and the chemistry felt very natural. We actually missed our train because we were having such a good time and ended up stuck at the train station for hours.
He suggested getting somewhere to stay for the night, but I politely declined because I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where I might sleep with him on the first date. I was still very interested in him—I just wanted to take things slowly. So we ended up staying at the station until morning.
He was very affectionate throughout the date. He hugged me twice and kissed me on the head before we parted. He repeatedly told me how much he was enjoying the date, and at one point told me I was the best person he’d met/talked to. He also said he was really happy that we’d managed to turn what could have been a chaotic night into such a good experience.
He mentioned that he’d been in a 10-year relationship before, but we didn’t really go into the details.
After the date, he messaged me again saying how much he’d enjoyed it. I said I’d enjoyed it too and ended the conversation with “talk to you later.”
He had also mentioned several times that he’s going to be busy over the next couple of weeks and that he was visiting family that weekend, so I knew he’d have a lot going on.
A couple of days passed.
I then messaged him because he’d taken some pictures during the date, including one of me, and I’d wanted to see them because my phone had died while we were out. He sent the pictures, including the one he’d taken of me.
He had also mentioned more than once that he’d like to see me again, and we’d talked about getting an English breakfast together. So I messaged him today asking for the pictures and also said that we should actually do the English breakfast soon.
It’s now been about six hours and he hasn’t replied.
And now I’m spiralling. 😭
Because the energy before and during the date felt SO good. I genuinely didn’t get the impression that he wasn’t interested. He repeatedly said he enjoyed himself, said he’d like to see me again, was affectionate, and even after the date he messaged me saying how much he’d enjoyed it.
But now there’s been this silence and I’m wondering whether the energy has changed, whether I did something wrong on the date, whether I came across as too interested, or whether he’s genuinely just busy like he told me he would be.
I know six hours isn’t objectively that long, especially considering he warned me he’d be busy, but after the intensity of the date and how much we were talking beforehand, the change feels noticeable.
So, men, what do you think? 😂
Does this sound like a guy who’s genuinely interested but busy, or does the post-date communication suggest he’s cooling off?
And please be honest because I think my brain is currently writing an entire dissertation about this man. 😭
Update
Around 10 hours after I sent my original message, I went on Hinge and noticed that he had changed some things on his profile. I was obviously annoyed and hurt by that, especially because he still hadn’t communicated with me directly.
I decided to leave it alone rather than confront him about it. Shortly afterwards, I noticed that he had unmatched me on Hinge.
That annoyed me even more because it felt like I was being left to piece together what was happening through his actions rather than him simply communicating with me.
So this morning, I decided I wanted to close things properly on my own end. I sent him a message explaining that I had really enjoyed meeting him and thought we had a good time, but that I was confused by the sudden change and lack of communication. I told him that if he had changed his mind about seeing me again, I would have preferred him to be direct about it.
I also made it clear that I wasn’t looking for a discussion and simply wanted to close things properly for myself. I asked him to delete the picture he’d taken of me and wished him well.
His response
He responded thoughtfully.
He said he’d seen my message the previous day but had been working and needed some time to collect his thoughts. He said he’d assumed I’d blocked him, which was why he hadn’t replied.
He said he had a great time with me over the weekend and stressed that there was absolutely nothing wrong with me. He said he genuinely thinks I’m fantastic, but realised that continuing to see me would have meant leading me on.
He explained that he’s going to take himself away from dating for a while because he’s clearly not in the right headspace, and that it’s still too early for him.
He also apologised for hurting me, said that wasn’t his intention, and admitted that he didn’t really know what to say and had no excuse for how he’d handled things.
He ended by thanking me for the amazing night and wishing me well.
My final response
I acknowledged his explanation and appreciated him being honest with me. I told him that I had also really enjoyed our time together and admitted that, despite understanding his decision, I was genuinely hurt by it.
I then wished him all the best and ended the conversation warmly, without trying to change his mind or continue the discussion.