Ah, Valentine’s Day. At the start of every new year, we have hopes that maybe this February 14th is going to be the most romantic, the most glamorous, and the most satisfying Valentine’s Day we’ve ever had. But many of us end up very, very disappointed. If you need any more proof, just read these stories of Valentine’s Day horrors.
A man came in and ordered 50 quarter pounders at the McDonald's I work at on Valentine’s Day. I got off just before we started making them so I lucked out; but if you know how the kitchens work at McDonald's, you know the horror this entails. I don’t know what that man was doing on Valentine’s Day ordering those but screw him.
Last year, I worked at a high-end sweets shop. Everything there is top-notch and expensive, and it was what people were willing to DO for those sweets that scared me. Chocolate covered strawberries? $50 per box of 4. We couldn't keep them in stock, and more than a few sweaty husbands begged us to make more and throw them in any container we had.
One guy walked in on Valentine's Day morning and offered to pay double the price even without the fancy romantic packaging. We also sold a big, embroidered, heart-shaped box for nearly $100. One guy asked us how much it cost, then he left temporarily and came back with his friend. He'd asked him for a loan. To buy V-Day chocolates. Relationships are wild.
My wife and I went to The Cheesecake Factory for lunch on Valentine’s Day in a bid to avoid the crowds. Next to us, a dude got down on one knee and proposed (yes, in a Cheesecake Factory). The waitress was filming it and people were watching. The girl saw the ring and started crying. He smiled, and it all looked good... until the other shoe dropped, hard.
When my wife and I left 20 minutes later, she was still crying, covering her face, and he wasn’t smiling anymore. I couldn’t hear well enough to know what they were talking about, but they kept speaking in low voices. It didn’t look good.
I worked at a fine-dining restaurant years ago. A middle-aged guy came up to me, handed me a gorgeous sapphire and diamond ring—just gorgeous—and asked me to have the pastry chef include it with his companion's dessert. The chef found beautiful blooms to decorate her dessert plate with and he placed the ring in the middle of one.
She saw the ring, took it out of the flower, and placed it on the table. Then, she picked up her fork and started to eat her dessert without saying anything at all. The ring must have been an extravagant "I screwed up" apology on his part and she was having NONE of it. I was tempted to say, "If she doesn't want the ring, I'll take it!"
On Valentine’s Day, I was in the middle of getting it on with some guy I’d just started dating. He must have misheard something I mumbled as “I love you” because he said, “I love you too." At that moment, I entered an entirely new level of despair trying to decide how exactly I was supposed to respond to THAT. I did not respond well.
Tragically, I panicked and rolled with it. Chalk it up to social anxiety. The hope was that I would fall in love with him eventually. I didn’t. By the way, there were so many mortifyingly cringe-worthy moments with this guy in the next couple of months that we dated. Here are some that I remember: He thought the concept of “the carpet matching the drapes” meant that he was supposed to trim his nether-regions to match his haircut.
Once, he accidentally called the placebo week of the birth control pill “the placenta week.” I never forgave him for that. There’s a phrase I say to myself a lot to keep things from getting to me: “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” It’s silly, but it helps me for some reason. I wrote it on my arm once when I was having a bad day.
When he saw it, rather than having the normal human reaction of asking what it means, he said, “You don’t really believe that, do you?” I’m still not sure exactly what was going through his head. That’s the first and last time I date someone whose looks are better than their personality. The guy was freaking gorgeous, but he acted like three raccoons in a trench coat desperately trying to pretend they are a human.
My friends and I met up at this big food court to hang out. It just happened to be Valentine’s Day. Well, one of my friends got there an hour early and saw this one dude with a bouquet of flowers and a giant teddy bear. Almost FIVE HOURS later, we came back to the food court for lunch and the guy was still there with no date.
We watched him make a call, throw the flowers to the ground, pick them back up, and eventually leave.
I convinced a girl who I was crazy about to go out on a date with me on Valentine’s Day. I knew I had to make it count. We lived by the ocean and she had dropped the hint that she had never been out on the pier at our local beach. Challenge accepted. I nervously drove her down to the beach and we proceeded to slowly walk out on the pier together. I should have known it would all go wrong.
She seemed hesitant from the beginning. We stopped near the end of the pier and I leaned against the railing over the water while she stood back a bit from the edge. She didn’t really seem into it at all. Awkwardly, I said, “This is a great view, huh?” just as two pigeons flew up and landed at our feet. “Sweet, chicks dig birds,” I thought to myself.
To my horror, the birds began to make passionate pigeon love in front of us while neither of us spoke. I had never witnessed such violent passion. I quickly scanned around and saw a couple holding roses on the other side of the pier. “Awesome, they look romantic; chicks dig romance,” I thought to myself. We quickly walked away from the surprisingly forceful pigeon action and stood next to the happy couple.
The man and woman were holding each other, but something seemed off. I glanced up and noticed that they were sobbing. The girl I was with noticed too. As we were both looking, the couple took their roses and cast them into the sea. I had posted us up next to a darn funeral; some kind of sea burial.
Between animal lovemaking and this, I had executed one of the worst V-Day dates of all time. Just as I had accepted my failure, my date started getting fidgety. Based on her body language and her expression, it dawned on me that she hadn't told me about the pier as a “hint,” but because she was terrified of it. Turns out, she had a fear of heights and the ocean.
That pier will forever be a monument to my most unsuccessful date.
This is something that happened to me directly. I thought my boyfriend and I had agreed to get each other small gifts; like chocolate and flowers, you know? I came home from work to a bunch of red ribbon-covered boxes with over $7,000 worth of gorgeous jewelry inside them. Do you know what I got him? A $25 gift card to Applebee’s. I really thought I was being clever.
I do believe I have the worst Valentine’s Day date ever. I mean... ever. So, I was newly single from a bad breakup of five years. She left me for another gal, and her friends decided to "right a wrong" and rob me of everything I own, save for my dog, bed, and SOME of my clothes. Anyway, after a few months, I tried a dating website on Valentine’s Day.
A gal messaged me. I was like, alright, your picture looks okay; you type a little immature, but your text is sterile. I decided to give her a shot. We met in a public mall that had shops and restaurants. I thought to myself, if things don't work out well, that's fine; we can go our separate ways. So I went there, and she messaged me where she was in the mall.
I made my way over to her location and when I saw her, I stopped in my tracks. There was a girl, but she looked nothing like her profile. She photoshopped her pictures. Still, I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I figured I'd chat with her and see what was up. I introduced myself to her and she said hi, then we walked through the mall. I noticed after a few minutes that someone was following us, shop to shop.
"Oh, that's my mom," she said. It bothered me a bit, so I asked why is her mom was following us. By the way, we were both 25 at the time. She explained that her mom came along for the meet… with her brother-in-law and his wife. The gal kept trying to kiss me in every store, but her mom was literally in the other aisle giving me the evil eye. It was freaky as heck, and not in a good way.
So after an hour, we went to the food court and got some food with the entire family. Again, this was VALENTINE’S DAY. Didn’t these people have somewhere to be? They seemed nice, but it was just too darn creepy. They later invited me back to their place for cards and "family games." But it turned out, the real reason wanted me back at their place was so they could grill me about their daughter.
Not good for me. My stomach started acting up as we were finishing up dinner. I excused myself to the men's bathroom, where the feeling of needing to "go" intensified, quickly. I entered the bathroom, downing an Imodium as I entered. I was sweating and I did not feel good at all. As I saddled up to the toilet, the pain moved into my kidneys.
It wasn't food poisoning—my stomach was fine, but I felt like I had an iron spike moving in my kidneys. It was bad. I saw her outside the bathroom and she said her family had gone to meet us nearby. She wanted me to follow them to their house.
Since we were parked at different areas of the mall, she told me to meet up with them at a nearby Denny's. While driving there, my body felt like it was on fire. The pain was so intense that I was afraid I'd broken something. We got to Denny's and I raced inside. "Customers only," the sign said, but I didn't give a hoot.
I got into the bathroom and pulled up to a urinal. At this point, I was either going to poop my pants, pee an iron spike out, or pass out. I actually briefly passed out for a second. I caught myself falling against the wall in pain, but nothing was coming out. I zipped back up and stumbled outside. My date was standing next to my car, and the world turned gray... Such a weird feeling.
I fell onto the grass on my knees. The pain was so intense, and I was a half-second from passing out. I tried to mumble something to her about being in mortal pain while she was crouching over me, a half-inch away from my face. I wanted to puke on her, but I was in so much pain. She closed her eyes and moved in closer for a kiss.
A KISS! While I was passing out in pain. I pushed her away and stumbled to my car. I'm not sure how I made it to the highway. I should have gone to the hospital. Once I got back to my apartment, I went to the bathroom and the pain was gone. There was a little kidney stone in the toilet.
I’m a server. I had a man loudly berating his wife at my table on Valentine’s Day. I don’t mean talking over her and being rude, I mean saying things like, “What the heck do you think you’re doing, you witch?" or “I’ll give you $36,000 to get the heck out of here right now, you piece of trash.” I had four different tables complain about him.
We eventually asked them to leave. I’d never seen anything like it before. At one point, the guy went to the restroom and I went up to the wife, asking if I could help in any way. I’ve never wanted to hurt someone in my life more than that guy.
This was several years ago before everyone had cell phones. A cell phone would've made things tremendously easier, now that I think about it. So this girl saw me on a personal ad and. hit me up. We seemed to hit it off. She was a little older than I was and her picture made her look a little bigger than I'd normally go for, but whatever.
It was kind of weird that she wanted to pick me up—on Valentine’s Day no less—rather than meeting somewhere, but I was still game. I should've stopped everything when I saw that dingy old Honda Civic roll up. The girl ended up being a LOT older and a LOT heavier than I expected. I didn't say anything though because I didn't want to offend her.
So I got into her car, which was full of trash, and we set out. She told me she needed to swing by her place and I said sure, whatever. Her place was in the rough part of town, which creeped me out. She invited me inside and I figured it was better than sitting in the car waiting.
So I joined her inside, which is when things really took a turn for the worse. It turned out, her boyfriend and kid were living in her apartment, neither of whom she mentioned to me before. Her boyfriend was remarkably laid back about me wandering in; meanwhile, her kid was toddling around, oblivious.
Sometime later, we headed to the car. She started driving and we began discussing where to go for dinner. I recommended a really nice restaurant, but she said it was too fancy. I also suggested a quirky hole-in-the-wall that's kind of gross but has fantastic food, but she didn't want to go that way. She suggested Taco Bell. I make a noise that was somewhere between "uhh, okay" and "really," which she took as me agreeing, and so we went to Taco Bell.
At this point, I was just happy to not be in her neighborhood. I ordered a couple of tacos, and, being the gentleman, I paid when she ordered what seemed to be half the menu. Then, she said she needed to use the bathroom. That was my chance. Without even thinking about it, I was out the door and halfway down the block before I even realized what I was doing.
A little later on, from a distance, I saw her burst out of the Taco Bell, look around, then start shouting for me to come back. Then I saw her get in her car. I thought she was just going to go home, but no... she started looking for me. This particular Taco Bell was on the main drag that backed up to kind of a residential neighborhood, so I wound up hiding behind some hedges and shrubs as she patrolled the streets.
This went on for two or three hours, with me skulking in the bushes as she circled the block. I've dodged officers that were less determined.
I managed to work my way back to my building, only to find her waiting in her car out front. Luckily, she didn't know about the back entrance, so I snuck in that way and left all my lights off.
I locked and barricaded the door because she refused to leave. The sight of her lurking in the parking lot at that late hour prompted one of the neighbors to call the authorities. She still refused to leave. She called the officers a number of interesting profanities and, judging by the screaming I heard from the parking lot, they decided to take her in for disturbing the peace.
When I was a server and bartender, we had a frequent escort come to our restaurant. It was pretty obvious she was an escort as this restaurant was in a wealthy neighborhood and she would be with a different man every time. Once when I served her, she said to me I'd make good money if I joined her company.
So on Valentine's Day, she came in with big, gold hoop earrings and her chest hanging out of a floral dress. She sat down with an elderly man who I figured was married because he was wearing a wedding band. Then I started seeing her…doing “things” under the table to the man. The manager kicked her out and she never came back.
So I met this girl on the Internet who seemed really nice and down-to-earth. We had a lot in common, including our hobbies and stuff like that, so I thought we would actually hit it off. We agreed to meet up in person at a Kaladi Brothers coffee place, and it happened to be Valentine’s Day. Now, bear in mind that I'm not super attractive, so up to this point, she hadn't seen any pictures of me.
Instead, we had pre-arranged recognition signals. She walked in the door and I spotted her by her clothing, so I instantly started waving. She immediately got this sort of uncertain look on her face. Then, she walked over and said, "Sam?" When I said yes, her response completely crushed me. She just said, "Haha...no" and walked out. It just sucked to realize that my looks relegate me to dating the catastrophically nearsighted.
I went on a blind date on V-Day and the girl was less than perfect. She was loud, constantly babbling with a stupid laugh, and had tasteless clothes, She mentioned she was taking her dog to get spayed and, in a moment of inspiration, I said, "Oh, I just let mine have puppies and then suffocate them in a plastic bag." I spent the rest of the evening playing StarCraft.
I walked into a grocery store yesterday evening, which was pretty packed with last-minute, frantic-looking Valentine’s Day shoppers. I walked in at the same time as another man with a confused look on his face and I heard him say out loud to himself, “Man, the store is pretty packed for a Friday evening...” Then, we both turned the corner. This is where it got really good.
In front of us were all of the last-minute flower arrangements and Valentine’s cards. I saw the man completely freeze and, again, he said out loud: “Oh…no....no, no, no! Today is Valentine’s Day?! I’m so screwed!” He then quickly ran to the chocolate section, joining the rest of the panic-stricken dudes with the same looks on their faces.
I hope those dudes are all still alive this morning.
I had a woman come into my fine-dining restaurant on Valentine’s Day and tell me she was allergic to allium, which is in garlic. Oh, but that wasn’t all. She was also allergic to processed sugar, gluten, and salt. It was torturous to empathize with her since she had signed up for a four-course prix fixe menu for $150/person. I mean c’mon lady.
Her partner had an amazing meal. She, on the other hand, had crispy rice, steamed broccoli and cauliflower, pepper-rubbed arctic chard, and no dessert. She did not have a wonderful experience. I would have felt bad for her, but we go out of our way to give our guests the menu ahead of time. We call to confirm that they are okay with the reservation, menu, and price.
But she just kept throwing a stink because she must have expected us to create an entirely new menu JUST for her and it should have been JUST as amazing as the other food our 250 guests were eating. In the end, I charged her full price and got that 20% tip. A note for those who don't restaurant often: Don't assume you're special on a holiday where everyone thinks they're special. You're not that special.
At the time I started dating my girlfriend, I liked to go on long walks to clear my head. My favorite place to stroll was through the woods. I always went out for a walk at nighttime, so I had gotten used to walking through the woods at night and I really enjoyed it. I still do. There's something serene and peaceful there in the darkness and silence.
Anyway, we had our first date on Valentine’s Day. After a relatively successful evening, watching Yes Man in the cinema and chilling out in the arcade, I opted to walk her home. She accepted! I offered to take her on my usual route, and I told her it was through the woods. I wanted to show her why I liked it so much. I had no idea how I was coming across.
I obviously sounded like a shady, shady dude. She still doesn't let me hear the end of it. "Jon, on our first date you tried to take me through the woods at midnight..." Fair enough. Even I see her point. What on Earth was I thinking? We're still together, though. She must really like me...
I ran the front desk of a hotel solo yesterday, on Valentine’s Day. It was utter madness. We were sold out with reservations, and a solid stream of locals came in expecting to get rooms, only to get disappointed when they were informed that we were booked solid. But that wasn't even the real disaster.
There was a complaint from an elderly couple about "loud amorous noises" emanating from a room near to theirs. This same couple thought it would be a great idea to dump a trail of glitter and rose petals down the entire hallway leading to their room. And this was just the 3 to 11 pm shift.
My first date was on Valentine’s Day when I was in high school. We went to see our high school's version of American Idol. He was 15 minutes late and I had to save us seats, so I ended up buying his ticket. When he finally got in, he clenched my hand in a sweaty grip throughout the entire night, while shaking nervously (it was cute, whatever).
He kept making awkward conversation and tried to make me laugh. After, we walked out of the building to where his mom was picking him up. He kissed me on the forehead, hard. Oh, high school.
My date and I were having a nice dinner of salmon and roast potatoes at a dining hall on Valentine’s Day. As he started talking about his day, I took a bite of salmon and felt a horrible pain slide down my throat. Not knowing what the heck that was, I tried drinking some water. Deep in my throat, I felt like I was being attacked, and every gulp only made it worse.
Then, I made a chilling realization. This must be that stupid thing my mother had always warned me about when eating fish—that you have to be careful of fish bones or they will get stuck in your throat. Well, darn. I spotted some potatoes on my plate and started shoveling them in my mouth; you know, to try and knock the bone out or push it down. Then the guy started telling a joke.
Well, my plan backfired, and once again, the pain became much, much worse. By now, it felt like someone had driven a screwdriver into my throat and was occasionally shoving it in deeper. When the guy finished his joke, he paused as he looked at me, awaiting laughter. I burst into tears. He said, "That bad, huh? I'm sorry... I-I've got other jokes..."
I managed to whisper that I had a fishbone stuck in my throat. He blinked. "But it's boneless salmon." I didn't really know how to respond to that, so I just stared at him with tears running down my face. He then said, "So uh...do you want to leave? What do you want to do?" and I whispered that maybe if we just got more potatoes, it would go away.
Three plates of potatoes later, I still had a fishbone in my throat, plus I was overly bloated. I never want to see a potato again in my life. This guy just watched in confusion while I ate potatoes and cried. When I looked up, he asked if it was still there. I nodded. At some point, we decided to go back to my room. Then, as we passed by the salmon station in the dining hall, he made it so much worse.
He pointed at the sign: "See? It's boneless." I didn't respond. When we got to my room, I called my mom and she said I needed to go to the hospital to have it removed. Freaking out, I turned to go and he insisted on coming with me to make sure I'd be okay. Sweet, right? Well, once we got there, he wouldn't leave. We waited six hours before any doctor or nurse would even see me in the ER.
When a doctor came, it was some practicing med student who, without looking, said that most people think the bone is still there when it's not. Apparently, salmon bones don't show up on X-rays, so he told me to go home. I refused, having just had the bone partially dislodge then re-lodge, punching a second hole in my throat. He said too bad, then went to get me check-out forms.
Then, the resident doc came and reamed the student out. I was thinking, "Oh thank god, they're actually going to fix me now." He told the student, "No, we won't release her until we're sure it's really gone; she could choke or it could puncture her lungs." Okay, really scary, but okay, they were going to fix it. So the doctor took me into a room and the student came trooping in after him.
He brought in this weird box thing with a long cord and a slightly larger thing on one end. He told me that, luckily for me, there was this new technology that can pick up salmon bones, and all they have to do is stick the cord through my nose and down my throat. I was not a fan of this idea. Even worse, he said he didn't have time to do that, and that it would be "good practice" for the med student to try it for his first time.
All the med students and nurses in the freaking ward came in to see this new technology, which made the med kid nervous. His hands were shaking. They sprayed some numbing stuff into my nose (most of it missed) and then the kid with shaking hands tried to stick an electrical cord down my nose while 15 people watched.
That's when the pain came. The med student said, "There's resistance," but the nurse urged him to just keep pushing. At this point, I had two holes in my throat and an electrical cord up my nose that was too big to fit, but the guy was still jamming it in. I started crying again. Not sobbing or anything, just tears rolling down my cheeks out of sheer pain. This apparently freaked the kid out more, and my shaking got worse. I didn't need to see it; I could feel it in my nose. Once the camera finally went in, the kid looked through and said he could see the bone. "Uh-oh—it's right there, in her vocal cords. That could mean serious damage," he noted.
So he took it out and the docs arranged for an ear, nose, and throat doctor to come in the next morning and remove it. They said they couldn’t do it themselves because they could permanently damage my vocal cords. Awesome. Here's the kicker. The 15 folks watching the cord procedure all wanted a turn. The resident doc came in and told me how important it was that people got the experience.
So I felt bad and gave them permission—all 15 of them—to practice with the cord thing on me. This was an hour and a half ordeal of them sticking the cord in my nose and pulling it out again while lecturing each other on technique and such. The entire time, the poor guy I was on a date with was sitting in the waiting room.
He must have been. there for about eight hours, on a school night no less. A nurse came in, gave me a pill, and said it would "relax" me before the operation. This was about the time when the nurses realized I had someone waiting for me in the waiting room. They told him he could come back and visit me.
The next morning, they put me under, got the bone out, and sent me on my way. During my classes in the afternoon, I had a spontaneous nose bleed that was pretty bad. I tried to cover it up with tissues until the person next to me turned, saw a ton of bloody tissues, and freaked out. I left.
The guy texted me several days later and kindly asked if I wanted to try re-doing our first date. I told him I'd be happy to.
I bartend. I was assuming this one couple was on a date as they had just ordered their food. 10 minutes into their date, I saw the girl take a drink—a full pint—and throw it on the guy. It hit the people behind him, the walls, and the floor. She immediately walked out, almost in tears. The guy's face as he just sat there soaked was indescribable.
It was the most movie-like break-up I'd ever seen happen in real life. On Valentine’s Day, no less.
My friend worked a 14-hour shift in a restaurant and then wanted to meet up with her boyfriend afterward to give him his V-Day gift. He gave her an address, but when she showed up, she came to a horrific realization. It was a strip club. He hadn’t told her this. Needless to say, she wasn’t happy.
She went inside, V-Day balloons and gift in hand, located him, dropped off his gift, and Ubered back home alone. Poor girl.
I was set up on a blind date with an aerobics instructor on Valentine’s Day. For what it’s worth, I'm tall, lean, and fit myself. I'd recently smashed my Honda sedan and was temporarily driving an old pickup instead. She spent the date telling me how much better she could do than me. The feeling was mutual.
My boyfriend and I went to a fancy French restaurant that was located in a nice hotel in my city. For V-Day, they had set aside their regular menu and were serving a fancy rose and strawberry-themed five-course dinner to couples. They used strawberries or strawberry sauces to garnish all their meals and served chocolate-covered strawberries between courses. The dishes were made to be rose-colored.
All the ladies in the restaurant were surprised with red roses upon their arrival. It was by far the fanciest dining experience I'd ever had—I was absolutely gushing the entire time. I'd never been to a place like that before. Everyone was dressed very nicely and all the guests spoke very quietly.
Their regular menu was unavailable for the evening, which they made very obvious by posting the special menu outside their door and on their website. When people called to book reservations, the hostess informed them of this multiple times. They basically did everything they could possibly do to make sure people knew that the regular menu was unavailable. Well, this is where it all went wrong.
Since it was V-Day and the place was small, my boyfriend and I made sure to make reservations three weeks prior, which I discovered was the norm. It appeared that pretty much everyone, as an unspoken rule, had reservations like we did... which was what I had expected since we were paying almost $90 a person for some French cuisine.
It wasn't really a spur-of-the-moment kind of place for something like Valentine's Day. My boyfriend and I were starting our second course and having a lovely time when my server and another server met up in the middle of the floor, scurrying away from the tables a bit to discuss. It was a small space, but I heard them whispering.
They were talking about how they had a “walk-in.” The one server was asking the other server, who appeared to be a team lead of some kind, what to do. They both seemed very thrown off, but they eventually re-arranged the table behind my boyfriend and me, originally set for six people, to be for only two.
Not long after, the hostess brought in this older couple, who were very dressed down compared to the rest of the guests. The couple sat at the table behind us in complete silence for several moments and since they didn't appear to have an “assigned” server like the other tables, my server decided to approach them. The couple turned on her first.
They did nothing but complain. They weren't whispering like all the other guests, so it was easy to hear them, and their primary gripe seemed to be that no one had told them about the regular menu being unavailable—not that they'd called ahead or anything, but they still expected to be told. They were very upset about it and wanted everyone to know.
I only heard bits and pieces, but by the time my boyfriend and I finished our third course, they'd had everyone from the lead server to the manager at their table. It was a very ridiculous, entitled display. The thing is, they could’ve avoided this.
I should also mention that there was a second, more casual restaurant run by the same people literally across the hall from this one where they were serving the regular menu, but for whatever reason, they insisted on dining at the one we were at. I couldn't help but shake my head at them.
You didn't plan ahead on Valentine's Day. That's no one's fault but your own, so just shut up and eat the coursed meal or leave. Don't give these poor people who are trying to make their guests' V-Day special a hard time.
On my first date with this girl on Valentine’s Day, I excused myself to use the bathroom. She got up and followed me, making flirtatious remarks along the way. I thought nothing of it, assuming she needed to use the restroom as well and was just making small talk. I walked inside the men's restroom…and she walked straight in with me. Okay.
So I turned to her and said, "Um, I actually do need to use the restroom." "Oh, I'll watch." "No…just no." I was not able to pee in public for a while after that.
We were 14. At the time, I didn't know what the heck to do about women...so I took this one girl to Subway on Valentine's Day for some sandwiches. It was freezing out, with five feet of snow. She brought her friend for the whole meal, which was kind of annoying, but whatever. After we ate, we walked back and on the way, her friend kicked a piece of plastic.
For some stupid reason, I don't know if it was stress or whatever, I thought it'd be awesome to jump up and down on this piece of plastic while grunting. That's what I did to try and impress my date. I destroyed a helpless piece of plastic, then kicked it onto the road. I still cringe to this day thinking about it.
It was very violent. Yet for some reason, this chick still dug me. She talked about how cold her hands were the whole way back. At the time, having so little experience, I didn't understand the signals of her wanting to hold my hand. We got back to school, said our goodbyes, and we were forever awkward around each other for the rest of high school.
I was dating this girl who I later realized was pretty much using me to buy her stuff. On Valentine’s Day, I took her out to dinner and surprised her with concert tickets to Jerry Cantrell of Alice in Chains. She was excited; so much so that she proceeded to spend the rest of dinner on the phone telling her friends about it. Kind of rude, but no big deal.
Fast forward to the night of the show. I took her to dinner and she acted ice cold. She barely made conversation and shrugged me off every time I tried to. Huh. We took the sky train down to the venue, and when I tried to hold her hand, she immediately pulled away. Huh. We get to the venue, went inside, and I bought us a couple of drinks.
She curtly thanked me for the drink and then said she'd be right back. I grabbed my drink and headed to the stage. When I got there, I saw her and my stomach drop. I saw her talking to some other guy. It quickly became clear that they were together, or at least had been before. So I walked up and said, "There you are. What's up?"
She replied, "Oh, it's you. Hi.” She turned to the guy she was with and introduced me, saying, “This is my friend." The guy then gave me a nod and a look that pretty much said it all. They were together, and I'd been played like a fiddle. I was in a horrible situation. Jerry Cantrell was to go on stage in the next 30 minutes, and I was going to have to make a tough decision.
I could either go home, wallowing in misery, or stay and see the show, knowing the girl would be enjoying it with her guy no less than 20 feet from me. Ugh. So, I did what any other Alice in Chains fan would do. I drank a ton and sloppily danced for the next two hours, trying to ignore that stinging feeling.
The show was great, and the crowd was awesome (minus those two), so that was a plus. I went home as soon as Jerry left the stage. I said “screw you” to the girl on the way out, and pretty much sobbed on the ride home. The worst date I've ever been on.
I have a bit of a thing for nerds, so awkward dates kind of come with the territory. The worst was when I went out with this one guy on Valentine’s Day. Even though it was really casual, he was so nervous that he brought his roommate so he wouldn't have to go alone. He was 28. The sad part is that I would've stuck around were it not for Roomie McThirdWheel.
Met a girl online. Yes. I know, but I had had relatively good experiences with this before. I was very much not in the mood for a serious thing at the time either, so I don’t know why I agreed to meet on V-Day. To be fair, it was super chill. I met her and her friend at some house that they were parked outside of. I walked up to the car, and the girl looked slightly less attractive than the two pictures she had up.
Still, she didn't seem terrible. At some point, we ended up going to a grocery store because her friend needed something. As soon as I got out of the car, her friend hit me up for gas money. I was confused, but I shrugged it off anyway. Maybe her friend was just nuts, I thought to myself. The girl I was supposed to be on a date with then got out of the car.
She was wearing pants that my grandpa would have worn when he was alive and a Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers jacket. At this point, I was starting to prepare for an emergency evacuation because this was going downhill fast. As we walked into the store, I started getting terrible whiffs of BO. I realized in horror that they were coming from her.
Keep in mind, we were outside where the wind is blowing, and all of her clothes were on, yet I could still smell her funk. At that point, I knew I need to bail. I feigned interest in whatever she was talking about while I figured out an escape route. I went to the bathroom in the grocery store and called my friend. I told him to call me in no less than ten minutes and tell me I am supposed to be at a party he's hosting within the hour.
The girl got in my car and finally, my phone rang. We played out the whole thing, yadda yadda yadda. That's when she asked if I could give her a ride to where she was staying. I told her GLADLY. The whole drive there, she told me this story about how she once stabbed a girl in high school because she dumped a good friend of hers or something. I was beginning to wonder if this girl was intentionally trying to make me as uncomfortable as humanly possible. NEVER AGAIN.
When I was in high school, I went on a date with a friend of a friend on V-Day. We saw a movie, then went out for dinner. I was nervous and awkward, and it ended without much fanfare. The date went okay, and there wasn't a second one. But that's not the bad part. About a month later, I went to a party at our mutual friend's house.
I saw her there and was afraid it might be a little awkward. About an hour into the party, she came up and started talking to our mutual friend while I was standing nearby. After a few minutes of talking, the girl I had gone on a less-than-awesome date with came up and introduced herself to me. On the bright side, at least it wasn't a memorably bad date...for her.
I went to a movie with a girl on Valentine’s Day when I was still really young. We saw Ever After (her choice). One of the trailers was for Star Wars. Being a massive nerd and not yet knowing that EP 1 would suck, 100% of my attention was on the trailer.
During the trailer, she asked me a question. My response? "SHHHH!" Nice...
My V-Day date was a vegan, but she didn't tell me that. We had our first date on Valentine’s Day and we went to a Thai restaurant. As we were ordering drinks, she decided to reveal to me that she was vegan. She refused to eat anything there. I was annoyed, but I still tried to salvage the date.
We talked for a while over drinks, and then she took me to a vegan cafe...where she lectured me about how terrible people treat animals. Never saw her again.
I’m a server. I had some guy on Valentine’s Day meal who could not get the concept of ravioli. He kept asking if we hollowed out a spaghetti (his words) and stuffed it with lobster. I said no, but confirmed that we did use pasta. He kept reiterating that he wanted pasta. Then, it dawned on me. "Sir, do you think that spaghetti is the Italian word for pasta?"
I finally got him down for an order of lobster ravioli, even though he still seemed unaware of what he was actually ordering. After he got his food and ate one of the ravioli, he said to me, like I was the dumbest fool on the planet, "Bro, all you had to do was tell me that they were Boyardee’s. I know what those are." His date was clearly unimpressed.
I had a date on Valentine's Day when I was 16. Being young and poor, we went to an Applebee's My date ordered off the kid's menu and got herself some chicken fingers. Embarrassed by this, I did what I could to steer the conversation away and try to have a pleasant evening. When the meal finally came, I noticed she couldn't cut her own food.
Noticing the look on my face, my date got upset. In an annoyed tone, she said, "I just learned how to do this last week, okay?!" After further conversation during which she claimed I couldn't have been in pre-calc in my public school because she was only in Algebra II in her private school, I decided to pay the bill and leave.
When I got to the restaurant for my V-Day blind date, she was already eating appetizers. Then, she ordered the MOST EXPENSIVE dinner on the menu and told me straight-up that she did it because she knew I would be paying. Small talk failed, and for 45 minutes, she complained about how no one was refilling her glass every time she downed her (many) drinks.
She mentioned how she heard I make a decent salary. I tried to be civil and change the subject. Awkward conversational topics ensued, and nothing even close to date etiquette followed. A third of the way through, I went to the bathroom. Then, our waiter walked by and asked me an outrageous question. He was wondering if we were on a reality show or something along those lines because he had seen this disaster in motion on TV before.
We talked about how wild the woman was for about five minutes before asking him to stop at our table and ask about the bill. I immediately said split checks and gave him 80 dollars. The date looked shocked and ended up not being able to pay her bill, so the friend who hooked us up got a call and flipped the rest of her check. Her total came to be about 75 dollars. Last blind date for me, ever.
He took me to a minor-league hockey game and brought his brother. I went to the bathroom. The game ended and he left me there. He had to come back for me.
I went out on a date with this girl in her first year of college on Valentine’s Day. For some reason I'll never fully understand (maybe she was trying to sabotage the date), she chose for us to see the movie Borat. For those of you who just don't know any better, there are certain people you go to see Borat with, and there are people you don’t.
I will never get over the awkwardness of trying to be romantic while Borat gets tea-bagged by a ginormous foreign man. Yet, it still got worse than that. Just beforehand, we were sitting at the cafe next door, chatting. It was going pretty well regardless of her movie choice, which had the potential to ruin the night.
Suddenly, I saw this guy I knew from high school. He walked up to say hello and ask what movie we were seeing. I told him "Borat" with a straight face, and he said, "Ohhhhhhhh, no! That's a terrible first date movie." God, I still think about how this girl replied to him.
Before he could say anything else, this girl said, "Oh we aren't on a date." No, I just picked you up, bought your food, and bought you a movie ticket.
I went on a double-date with a girl from college and two nerds. The girl who had asked me out was kind of a swervy driver and didn’t seem to have driven much before that night. Literally, five seconds before pulling into our parking space, the girl in the backseat threw up mid-sentence. She threw up all over her feet and clothes and all over the floor.
To make matters worse, the car did not belong to my date. It was just a loaner. I spent the night helping her clean the car out.
I witnessed the table behind us get bussed while they were in the bathroom. The food got brought out to a clean table, and the staff was confused but they still set it all down. When the couple came back, the waiter told them he would get them some silverware, napkins, and their drinks. He was not gone for more than 5 minutes.
Well, the girl got up to complain to not one but two different waiters. She was visibly complaining to the second one when her waiter came back with everything but her drink. She snapped with some comment about it being 30 minutes late. The waiter did not end up going back. The manager checked on them and he didn’t even want to deal with them, so he sent someone else back with her drink and to-go boxes as a way to politely tell them to leave.
I went out to eat with my date and proceeded to spill food all over myself. We went to go see a movie next and I fell asleep during it. When I took her home, it was still bright outside. Le fail. It was my first date, too.
I’m a server. On Valentine’s Day, there was a woman in a see-through bodysuit with only underwear on underneath. You could clearly see her lace intimates and body piercings. Honestly, it was pretty out there and I can't believe no one complained.
Within the first five minutes of my Valentine’s Day date, this guy told me he killed his dog by leaving it in a hot car for 12 hours. When he realized I was horrified, he tried to pass it off as a joke. I left immediately.
I work on a cruise. I had a lunch shift and a dinner shift on Valentine's Day. There was this one lady who was obviously upset with her partner. I’m a photographer, so they stepped up to take a photo. He didn’t want to, but she had already paid for it. She was annoyed with him but she put on a smile.
When I went to show her the photo, she was so done with everything. She never got up to dance or anything. I wonder if he did something wrong or if she was sick, but she didn’t look like she was having fun.
My husband is a train conductor and he had a hearing yesterday morning at 10 am for an incident. The hearing bumped him off his bid and he ended up on the spare board. Since he was officially on call starting at 4 pm, he spent Valentine’s Day sleeping as much as he could to prep for a possible unexpected switch to graveyards. Unfortunately for him, he was called in for 7 pm.
He didn’t get home until early this morning. We celebrate big days whenever we can, and luckily, friends and family are accepting that most plans with us are pretty last minute. Working on calls and bids can be very hard on any relationship.
I got my wife a stuffed bear with some chocolates as an "I know we don't do Valentine's, but I still want you to know I love you and it's just kind of fun to get you something anyway" type of gift. But oh, I had made a huge mistake. This freakin' lady got me the dopest pewter Lonestar + Texas money clip to replace the rubber band I'd been using.
She also threw in a snazzy Thor's hammer slip-on cover for my Airpod case, my favorite chocolate from a name brand that just so happens to also be my last name, and a baby Yoda journal that said, "Will you be my Valentine." on the cover. Not $700 worth of stuff, but infinitely more thoughtful than my stupid little bear...
My own personal horror story as a server: The manager at my restaurant told me I had quickly become his best server. I had been raking it in and regulars were asking for me close to every shift. I was pumped for Valentine’s Day...but no, I fainted in the middle of dinner service and got sent home. So here I am today, feeling awful, and with a fraction of what I planned to make.
Plus, I ruined four couples' Valentine’s Day dinners.
I work at a pizza place. We had heart-shaped pizzas that took twice as long to put in a pan, and nobody was allowed to order ahead of time because corporate thought it’d get really busy. Online orders weren’t going through properly, so we had some customers waiting for their pizza for a solid 40-50 minutes. We were short-staffed on delivery drivers as well. Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.
I’m a waitress at a nice restaurant. One of our favorite regular customers brought in her boyfriend for the first time on V-Day, and in her excitement, she bumped into a table and knocked someone’s cup off. This wasn’t bad at first, but it turned awful in an instant. In her haste to pick up the cup, she hit her head on the corner of the metal table and cut her forehead open.
We cleaned her up and gave them a stack of free food cards because she’s awesome and we love her.
I brought a girl back to my house for dinner and a movie on Valentine’s Day. I had previously made a "bet" with her wherein if she won, I'd make her dinner and bake a pie, but if I won, she had to make out with me. Either way, win-win, right? So we finished dinner and went back into my bedroom to watch the movie we had planned to watch.
Midway through the flick, she said, "I'm still a bit hungry—I think I'll go grab a quick bite of the leftovers." She got up and went into the kitchen. I decided about 45 seconds later, as my stomach rumbled, that that sounded like a great idea. When I arrived in the kitchen, my jaw dropped. There she was, standing over my silverware drawer, emptying everything into her purse.
I was shocked. I asked her, "What the heck are you DOING?" She giggled and replied, "Oopsie!" I'd have been angry already, but the girly giggling just put me over the edge. I walked up, looked in her bag, and saw that she'd only managed to grab some of the inexpensive silverware so far. At that point, I reached over to the counter and grabbed a slice of the pie.
I looked her in the eyes and said, "Don't forget your dessert." While holding her gaze, I dropped the pie into her purse and smashed it up as best I could with the sides of the purse to make sure it got in there nice and good. I kicked her out and never saw her again.
The pizza place I work for cuts all the pepperoni pizzas into hearts on V-Day, and we had to make about 450 of those, plus 250 more pizzas, in four hours. Our slogan is “Take and Bake,” so obviously we make the pizzas and you take them and bake them at home. Several times, we had people get their pizzas at the end of the line and say, “It's not cooked.”
My co-worker, who is super deadpan, looked at them and said, “Yes.” To every single one of them. Also, I took a phone call and I said, “When will you be coming to get your pizza?” and the lady on the phone said, “Actually I’d like it delivered.” Needless to say, we didn’t deliver it and she hung up.
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