Last week, we put out a call for you, dear Seattle magazine readers, to email us your finest, most ridiculous and most horrible dating stories. I’m happy to report that you did it with aplomb.

Behold, six stories of connections that were never meant to be (including one in Haiku form!). I’m still determining which story will win the grand prize; it’s a tough call.

1. Lice, Lice Baby

This was a handful of years ago, when I first moved to Seattle. I had made the move right after finishing college in San Diego and was excited, but also a little terrified to live in a new city. My aunt and her family offered to let me stay with while I got my feet on the ground. 

Almost immediately I met a guy at work, who was super cool, had amazing hair and was the lead singer in a pretty popular local band. We immediately spent a lot of time together and I met all his friends, his mom and his little brother. I had spent the last four years studying and working full time, I hadn’t dated even a little bit. Still, I felt really relaxed around this new guy. There were a million red flags… he drank a lot, smoked a lot, lived in a shitty apartment, and I happened to find a lot of girl-like things laying around, bobby pins (“someone must have left that here”), chap stick (“I like the smell”)… and did I mention, he was in a band? He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy you want to bring home to your parents. Still, I didn’t know anyone else in the city except him and his friends, they were all so nice and he was soooo dreamy. 

Then one day I get a call from him, telling me that he has lice. And that I probably have it too. LICE. I was mortified, but I had to tell my aunt and her family that they might have lice too, but I was too embarrassed to say why. Then I had to go get my lice removed, in a place for little kids. Then I offered to clean everything in their house, just in case. My family was disgusted, but was too nice to say anything (luckily they didn’t have lice too) and let me clean the house. After all this, I called the guy back to say that I was now lice free and that I could come over and help him clean his house too. At this point in time I was embarrassed, but naively not mad at him at all. It didn’t even occur to me how he could’ve gotten lice but his roommate didn’t have it. 

He answered the phone, but said that he didn’t want me to come over. And that we should stop seeing each other. And I didn’t hear from him… ever again. Needless to say, I moved out of my aunts house and into my own place shortly after and found a new job.

We don’t talk about that time I got lice, but it’s an embarrassing and painful memory. Years later, there are times when I still have to remind myself not to freak out when I scratch my head.

This was was definitely the worst dating story, but I have dated guys where I found a girls’ tank tops tangled in their sheets, or caught them walking around with another girl in Pike Place when they were supposedly “traveling” and my first ex has been in and out of rehab for the last decade. I know I probably have really bad luck, and ultimately chose the wrong guys, but I don’t think my stories are all that uncommon! So many of my girlfriends have become completely disheartened with dating. 

Moral of the story: Meet another guy at work 2 years later, fall in love and move into an adorable house at the top of Queen Anne. He will make you an amazing dinner every night and hold your hand while grocery shopping. It was all worth it.

2. Mr. Netflix and Chill: No, I won’t watch Patch Adams and touch your junk

Those of us who survive awful, Sunday night dates should receive a badge of some sorts. At least a medal. 

It was a mild Sunday night when I met my date outside of the bar. When he climbed out of the Uber with a friend I assumed it wasn’t him. But it was. The friend proceeded to shake my hand and introduce himself, only to stand there for several moments until he got back in the car. 

That was the first red flag. 

The awkward moments kept coming as my date’s hand grazed over my butt as we walked to a booth in the empty bar. He was impressed when I ordered a gin and tonic (because girls can’t drink gin). We had pleasant conversation over our drinks, but it didn’t take me long to figure out that he was still heavily influenced by liquid courage from the Sounders match. He didn’t touch his drink. But he did touch my leg, after awkwardly asking to sit next to me in the booth (because the quiet bar was too loud). 

He turned the mediocre conversation to movie watching (he was hellbent on “Netflix and Chill”). When I mentioned that Dead Poets Society is one of my favorite movies, he actually stood up on the seat of our booth, towering over me, professing (in slurred speech) “Oh Captain, my Captain” from the iconic scene. 

I tried to get past it as we talked more about Robin Williams movies. He admitted to never seeing Patch Adams and suggested we go back to my place and watch it. My honest, internal response was “Buddy, I am not going to watch Patch Adams with you and touch your junk”. What I actually said was “It’s not really that kind of movie, it’s really sad, definitely funny moments, but mostly sad, also, I’m not really feeling a movie of any kind tonight”. He tried to find excuses to come over (his phone was dying) and how he wanted make this work (we had a connection). In the end all he could say was “Wow.” He paid the bill and still couldn’t stop expressing his surprise that this was not happening (because apparently this was a shock). I waited until his Uber drove away to walk the few blocks home. 

And no, I did not watch Patch Adams.

3. Bad Dates in Haiku Form

#1

Voted for McCain?
I can’t believe we’re talking!
Please don’t call again. 

#2

You were in prison.
I thought I could still love you.
Will you steal my stuff?

#3

Scary first date man.
Loud shirt, strong cologne, help me.
Make time go by fast.

#4

We just met online!
You seemed so sincere, now you
Want me to send cash.

#5

You spin drum and bass
We danced well for a short while.
Not my DJ now. 

#6

Why are you so odd?
Do you think that I’m odd too?
I must go away.

#7

We got all through the
Guided Communication!
Now you’ve disappeared.

#8

You send text message:
Want pizza and a quickie?
Sadly, I say yes.

#9

You tell me that I
look much like Kathleen Turner
Back when she looked good.

#10

I love your sailboat,
But not your misogyny.
Take me back to shore.

4. Too serious too soon

Didn’t even go on a date. Had one conversation where the guy talked about commitment and love. First & last conversation.

5. Change of clothes

I met this guy at a party I went to with some friends. I had just broken up with my boyfriend of two years (and was still in the process of moving out) so it was a welcome encounter. He was cute, nice, had interesting things to say and obviously worked out. My only reservation at the time was that he was wearing “dad” jeans (ladies, you know the kind), but I thought whatever, no big deal.

We ended up making out and he walked me to my car around 5 a.m. (I was like OMG, he’s a gentleman! Sort of.) We made plans to actually go on an official date that next week.

Friday night rolls around and I called a cab to meet him at a popular restaurant for dinner. When I arrived, much to my dismay, he was wearing THE EXACT SAME OUTFIT (dad jeans and all) as he was during our make out session one week prior. Why would you wear the same outfit? I brushed it off. Whatever.

So we went to get a table and the place had an hour wait. Pretty common for a popular place on a Friday night, right? Wrong. This guy was furious. He yelled at the hostess about how it was ridiculous to wait an hour for a table. I figured we’d just go to the bar area and enjoy a drink while we waited but he was having none of that.

He dragged us to a nearby seafood restaurant, which had no wait, then once we sat down proceeded to tell me that he hated fish. In the end, I paid for my own dinner and never called him again.

6. The Right Side of the Bed

I dated this person longer than I should have, but your 20s are a time of failure and exploration so it is what it is. He was a musician who lived with his parents and took his craft very seriously.

I had my own apartment so he was over quite often and had the key to let himself in whenever. One night when I wasn’t expecting him, he showed up clearly either drunk or on some sort of drug. I was completely asleep because it was like 3 a.m. He came in my room, woke me up and demanded that I move to the other side of the bed because I was “on his side.”

Obviously, I said no. I always slept there and it was my damn house. And he insisted, saying that if murderers came in, they’d get him first? Nice logic. So to shut him up, I relented and moved over, but I was angry. He then refused to shut the light out and sat up in bed for hours ranting about his music and rocking back and forth. The f*ck? It was insane.

I wish I could say that I broke it off after that, but it took a few more of those unfortunate episodes before I could get the nerve. Ugh.

This is part one of our Dating in Seattle series. Look for part two in the coming weeks.