Submitted by Ann:
I met this guy, Greg, at a fundraiser for the local fire department. My dad is a fireman and knew the guy, so it seemed relatively harmless.
We spent the following six months trying to coordinate (which was hard to do since we lived 30 minutes apart and he refused to come to any of the places that I hang out).
Finally, I decided to make the trip to his town to go to a cruddy local bar and have a drink with him. Already, I was annoyed, but I felt committed, so I made the drive.
When I got to the bar, in a rough part of town, I texted him and asked if he would come out and walk me in. The response I received was "WE R ON THE DECK." Realizing that I wasn't getting any sort of gentlemanly treatment, I trekked to the bar and paid the cover, fought though the crowds to the back deck and looked around and around. Nowhere to be found... and that's because he was up at the bar doing shots with at least ten other guys.
He had one in his hand for me, which I politely refused (citing the 30 minute drive) and we sat: me, him, and the ten frat-boy-idiot guys with whom he was at the bar. He spoke only to them, not even introducing me to the table.
The night wore on, I sipped on a single beer while he got completely slobbering drunk and finally it was time to go. He asked if I would follow him home and I rolled my eyes, but said I would because it was close.
I pulled into the parking lot after him, and then started to turn my car around with a polite wave goodbye. Goodbye, idiot, and good riddance!
But wouldn't you know, the night wasn't over yet, as he half-trotted, half-stumbled over to my passenger door, opened it and plopped down before I could even protest.
"Come upstairs with me?" he said, trying hard to be charming.
"Um, it's late. I'm going to head home."
"You're too drunk to drive!" he insisted, hoping that I would take the bait.
"No, Greg, I'm leaving."
He blubbered about how his father had just died, and he was so lonely, and wouldn't I just come up for a moment? I couldn't believe he was pulling this with me. I told him how sorry I was for his loss, and at that moment, in a feat of acrobatics I have never since seen repeated, he put his HAND down my PANTS.
I full-volume screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG IN YOUR HEAD?" and he jumped out of the car, practically sprinting to his apartment while I sped out of the parking lot, shaking, pissed, and confused. It was that the worst date with the most sinister, manipulative douchebag ever to walk to planet...
I didn't hear from him for six months, until my parents were having a party and he texted to see if I was going to be there.
My dad personally told him that it probably wasn't in his best interests to show up.
Submitted by Ann: