16 First Dates That Need to Be Turned Into a Netflix Script

I went on a blind date with a rich man. No profile pics.
As we met, he was handsome and seemed polite but oddly stared at me all night. We talked for 2 hours, then I went to the toilet. When I returned, he was gone. I cried.
What hit me most was when the waitress leaned in and whispered, “You have a piece of spinach the size of a Post-it note on your front tooth. Has been there since the appetizers. He kept staring, trying to figure out how to tell you.”
I locked myself in that bathroom for another ten minutes. Not crying. Dying.

Met a guy at the skate park when I was 14, he asked if I’d go out with him the next day. I thought he was gorgeous, and when he said I should dress up, I expected something special. He took me to his little sister’s funeral.

I matched with this guy on an app. The conversations were fun and flirty, so we decided to meet at a coffee shop and see if we vibe in person. He looked exactly like his photos, but something felt off.
Ten minutes in, he got a text, looked panicked, and ran to the bathroom. He came back five minutes later, cracked a joke, and the ice finally melted. We talked, I started to relax. He was funny and easy to talk to. I thought, okay, maybe this is actually going somewhere.
And then the waiter leaned in and whispered right in my ear, “Be careful. This guy has a twin. I saw them swap in the bathroom.” I excused myself to the bathroom and left.

Junior year of high school: parents still didn’t let me date or even go anywhere. I found this completely amazing girl (henceforth named “H”), and I thought, “Screw this, I’m going out with her.”
Wednesday, after I met her, I told my dad that I’m staying for the poetry club, and he approved. I asked H if she wanted to go to a great coffee shop around the area. She agrees, and off we go. We get to the coffee shop, and everything is great.
Just as things started to heat up a bit, my phone rings. It’s my dad, and he tells me that he is already on his way to pick me up. And I immediately start panicking. I tell H about the situation, and she even agrees to run with me back to our school, which happens to be about fifteen streets away.
At that point, I knew I was probably going to be in deep trouble. Both of us sprint past six streets before a bus catches up to us. We get on and ride our way to school. Before we get out, I look out the window, and my heart drops; my dad’s car is parked right in front of the school’s main office. I’m on the verge of having a panic attack.
H and I get off about a block away from the school and sneak into it through an open gate in the back. I say goodbye and run to my dad’s car. And so begins one of the most awkward car rides of my life as my dad questions why I’m sweaty and smell of coffee and chocolate.

I’d been seeing this guy for a couple of months, but we never actually went on a date. So this being our first date, we went to get some froyo at Tutti Frutti.
He comes and picks me up, and he brings his mom along. He apparently can’t go on dates unless she comes with him. So we are sitting at our own table, eating, and I lean over to show him something on my phone.
His mom gets up and marches over to our table and grabs my phone, practically shouting, “What are you showing my son?!?!?” It was a funny puppy video. I took back my phone, broke up with him, and walked home.

I (44M) matched with a woman via online dating. She’s about the same age. We began communicating on the app, then transitioned to texting and calling. Things were going well, so we began to game-plan for dates/times we could meet. She lives about an hour away, so it’s somewhat challenging, but not terribly so.
Anyway, we were discussing what we did for a living, and I mentioned I am a dentist. She was asking me questions about a recent experience she had with her dentist and was expressing her very common fear of the dentist. Lol.
I could tell she wasn’t fishing for a handout, etc., but she was having increasing pain with a particular tooth. I insisted that she get it fixed ASAP, but her work schedule is challenging.
Long story short, she came to my office recently (upon my suggestion and upon offering to help), and she needed 2 root canals and 2 crowns, which I ended up gladly doing—on our first meeting. The procedure went very well, and she is so grateful.

I was supposed to meet her at a restaurant bar for drinks and appetizers. She was 20 minutes late and came in like the Tasmanian Devil, barely said hi, ordered a drink, a seafood sampler appetizer, then disappeared to the bathroom.
She was gone for 15 minutes or so and came back right as her appetizer hit the bar. She basically pounds the drink, houses the appetizer, says she needs to run because she’s meeting friends, then leaves without paying. We barely got past “Hi, how are you?”
I look at the bartender, dumbfounded, and he says, “Man, I’m just charging you for your drink and considering her a walkout.” I said thanks and tipped him 100%, and left.
3 hours later, I started getting nasty texts from her for not paying for her. I guess she and her friends went back later in the night, and they told her to pay for her earlier tab that she walked out on, or wait for the police.

My date left his retainer on the tray at McDonald’s. Then he remembered he had put the tray in the garage bin. Instead of going through the garbage bag to look for it, he grabbed the whole bag, flung it over his shoulder, and said he’d look for it later, at home.

An old friend from elementary school asked me out when I was 19 or so. Apparently always had a crush on me. Date was fine, a typical 1993 date dinner and a movie.
At the end, she says, “Call me.” I replied, “I don’t have your number, you call me.” “Okay, I’ll call you.” That’s it. She never called back. No big deal, no heartbreak.
A year or so later, I saw her at a restaurant when I was on a different first date. “Hi, how are you? “How dare you, you never called me,” and on and on. “Ah, you were supposed to call me, I didn’t have your number.” “Oh... Sorry.”
Year and a half later, same girl from the previous date (amazed the previous interaction didn’t scare her off, but whatever). We’re in a mall, “Hey, you never called me.” Same response, see above.
Goes quiet for a few years, and then Facebook is invented. “Friend request.” I ignore it cause I don’t use Facebook, and, well, see above. A year later, I get a direct message, “If you don’t want to talk to me, just say so.”
And so it has gone for decades. Last request on Facebook asked me for my phone number so we could talk in person.
One date, we watched People Under the Stairs, all very wholesome. I’m now in my 50s, and I live in fear of the girl from down the street that I went to elementary school with.

Met on a dating website and texted nonstop for quite some time. He is a funeral director. I came to his house for dinner and a movie.
I pull up to him, standing in his garage with a suit on, holding a roll of duct tape. I honestly thought about driving away. He told me that he just got called out, and I could either go with him to get the body or wait at his house. Um #2 please!
He gives me a quick tour of the house and neglects to mention where the light switches are located. I was in the living room of a split-level house, and I needed to use the restroom. I go upstairs in the dark, feeling everywhere for a switch. Never found one.
I go to head back downstairs, and the heel of my shoe gets caught on the 2nd stair. I heard a snap as intense pain ensued. On my way to falling flat, I take out a stupid plant he had on the half wall.
So now on this first date, I am lying in his foyer, sobbing, with the worst sprained ankle ever, surrounded by dirt from the plant. All I kept thinking was that he was going to come home any minute and find this crazy lady lying there. It took about 15 minutes for the pain to subside and allow me to crawl downstairs to get my phone.
When he got home, I told him what happened. Not sure that he truly believed how much pain I was in until I had to have an MRI the following day. We have been together ever since and will be married in a month or so.

I was walking past a rickshaw one night with a dude and a lady in it, and the lady says, “I always feel bad for these guys, I feel like I’m too heavy.” And instead of reassuring her, the guy says, “Oh, don’t even worry about it, these guys could carry a moose!”
I think he knew as soon as it left his mouth that he wasn’t getting anywhere on that date.

I matched with a man online. Things were going well, so he offered to meet. He said it’d be a surprise, that he wanted to take me somewhere special.
A few days before, a package arrived: a beautiful red dress with a note asking me to wear it on our date. Okay. A little much, but sweet.
He picked me up, and I’ll admit, it felt great. Then he pulled off the road, and I started to panic. It was a cemetery.
He sat down by a headstone and started telling his late wife about me. “Doesn’t she look just like you, honey?” he asked the stone. That specific red dress was a replica of the dress she was buried in.

On a first date with a woman, and everything is going great, eating, talking, laughing. Halfway through dinner, she excuses herself to go to the bathroom.
She comes back, sits down, looks at me, and says, “Ok, my lease is up in 3 months, so I can move in with you. We can start planning our wedding shortly after that. I was thinking we can have two, maybe three kids, and then you can get fixed.”
She keeps going on for 30 minutes. I’m sitting there with an O_o look on my face as she is eating and talking. I’m thinking, “I ain’t even said I love you.” I put an end to that right there and said no.

He arrived in a sharp suit. He looked like a true gentleman. During dinner, he got hot and took off his jacket. Underneath, he was wearing a t-shirt with my face on it that said “Future Mrs. Miller.”
We had known each other for exactly twenty-two minutes. He said he “just knew” from my profile pictures.

Met a guy. Everything was perfect. He was charming and thoughtful. At the end of our first day, he asked if it’d be okay if he took me for a ride, but we’d need to drop off a book at his friend’s place first. I said sure.
We pulled up to a massive backyard BBQ. He got out of the car and shouted his cousin’s name. A guy came running over, took one look at me, and said, “Bro. You actually did it.”
Then he turned to me, completely sincere, and said, “He bet us fifty bucks he could get a girlfriend by sunset. We didn’t think he’d actually leave the house.”
I didn’t leave. I don’t totally know why. Maybe it was the fact that he looked so genuinely embarrassed that I almost felt bad for him.
At the end of the night he walked me to my car and said, “I know that was a lot. I’m sorry.” I told him the book was actually the most creative thing a man had done to get my attention in years.
We’ve been together for eleven months.