Here is my dating disaster, or more like the date from hell. I went out for the first time in a couple of years since I got divorced. My date didn't say much, but he sure had touching down to an art. I asked him to keep his hands to himself until we knew each other better, but he took it badly. He told me I was from the stone ages because I wouldn't let him touch me as much as he wanted to.
He then came back by telling me I talked too much and laughed too much. I always thought a first date was for getting to know one another and talk was, you know, necessary. Obviously, Mr. Octopus didn't agree.
We weren't made for each other, but I figured I'd make it through the date and never talk to him again. No such luck -- half way through dinner, he went to the bathroom and never came back.
Now, I am a little rough around the edges when it comes to dating, but I've got to think that wasn't exactly polite . . .
-- Name Withheld
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