She threw up in my friend’s Nissan a block away from her apartment. She was drunk.
—George
Aftermath: It was over after I carried her to the door. I never saw her again, but the throw up stain is a reminder of that dreadful night.
I knew it was over on our second date when he threw his legs over his shoulders and proudly lit a thunderous fart on fire with a lighter.
—Tiff
Aftermath: Ended shortly thereafter, for obvious reasons. The white ball of flame was impressive, though.
He kept climbing up on things. We’d go to a bar and he’d climb on the pool table or the bar or whatever else and perch on it. I think he thought it made him interesting, but it really just made him look like a tool.
—BlueCanary
Aftermath: He started wearing black eyeliner right around the same time I stopped returning his calls.
I was out of work and my friend was paying all the rent himself and providing food for the entire household. My girlfriend thought it would be a fantastic idea to belittle him and call him pathetic because of his hobbies (which were the same as mine).
—Jezzter
Aftermath: Three months later, I ended it.
We were making out, and suddenly we had to stop. He looked over at me and said in that stupid, gruff, three-pack-a-day voice of his, “I wish we had more time—and a condom.” We had barely been dating three days.
—Lily
Aftermath: I broke up with him probably two days later. (He sucked at kissing too.)
