I was on the perfect first date with this impossibly handsome guy I met at my coffee shop. He held every door, pulled out my chair, and even offered his coat. I thought for sure that I met my Prince Charming–until he took a literal bite out of me. As you can imagine, it all went downhill from there.
- The first date was pure magic. He wore a jacket and tie and picked me up right on time. He was chivalrous and intriguing. The way he looked at me left me weak in the knees. I was incredibly attracted to his intelligence as well as the way that he was genuinely interested in me. He asked the right questions and only talked about himself when I inquired. I was feeling like a million bucks across the table from him. Judging by the way he dressed and the watch on his wrist, I’m pretty sure he actually had a million bucks.
- The first kiss was absolutely perfect… until it wasn’t. His lips were soft and his breath was minty fresh. He had his hand on the back of my neck with his fingers weaving through my hair. There was a hint of tongue, but not an aggressive attack of it. A surge of butterflies swept through my stomach and then he bit my lip! At first, I thought he had a seizure or something because the bite was totally out of left field. I pulled away and he smiled. I spent the next few days biting the swollen part of my lip every time I ate. Not exactly the lasting effect you aim for after a first kiss.
- His text messages were persistent, to say the least. At 9:30 a.m., he asked what I was up to, then asked the same question two hours later. We were only a few dates in but he needed to know all of my plans and a play by play of my day. It felt sweet at first but gradually became excessive.
- This was not my kind of PDA. I’m not a huge fan of PDA, but I’m all for the occasional kiss and frequent hand holding. One night, while we were out at the bar with some of my coworkers, he came behind my barstool, pulled my hair back and started kissing my neck. Before you think this is hot, remember that this was in public and in front of my coworkers. From that point forward, they would all ask me how my boyfriend Christian Grey was doing.
- He had a drawer full of BDSM accessories. Listen, I’m all about coloring outside the lines, but is it kosher to open up your drawer of bondage tools after only sleeping together for a week? Where do we go from here? Will we be attending sex parties in 3 months and become swingers in 2 years?
- He snapped at me when I tried to split the bill. It’s pretty sweet when a guy picks up the bill, but I’ll always offer to do the same. On our third date, the check hit the table and I reached for my purse. He looked at me like I just skinned his cat and wore it as a fur coat. Instead of appreciating my gesture, he angrily grabbed the check presenter, flashed me a disapproving look and said, “I don’t allow that.” This is where things started getting creepy.
- He had a foot fetish. He had a thing for helping me put on and take off my heels. At first, I felt like Cinderella and giggled a bit when he slipped the shoe on my foot. After a while, though, it seemed like he was staring at my foot from across the room like it was a roast beef sandwich. What is with this guy?
- I thought maybe I had an American Psycho situation on my hands. He was a little too polished, too perfectly put together and TOO slick. Could he be a serial killer? Is he waiting to make his move on my life? I’m pretty sure that this is not the sort of questioning you should be doing in a new relationship.
- We are so over and I hope I never run into him. There was no final straw, but a big collection of creepy ones. Not only was some of his behavior way far out of my comfort zone, I was starting to wonder if I’d wake up to him standing over me with a knife. As far as crazy ex-boyfriends go, this is one that I would move to another state just to avoid.
