Introducing Dateless in Denver: Essays on the Good, the Bad and the Very Ugly of Dating

At the start of the summer, in anticipation of all those hot times ahead, we shared a string of articles about dating in Denver, including a cover piece that explored "Why Dating in Denver Is a Dumpster Fire," as well as news of a report that Denver women are among the pickiest daters in the country. We also hosted an essay contest asking readers to share their best bad-date story.

Now, because misery loves company, we're introducing "Dateless in Denver," a regular series of reader essays on the realities of dating in Denver. And we're starting with the winner of our bad-date contest: Can you top this?
My name is Jess, and I'm gonna tell the story of a time a guy shat on my lawn on our second date.

I had met this guy through OkCupid (98 percent match! What could go wrong!) and the first date was honestly pretty good. We both mentioned we loved cheesecake, so we decided to go on a second date to the Cheesecake Factory on the 16th Street Mall. I got there a little after him and he'd already ordered a bottle of wine (of which I had less than a glass; he finished the bottle), which he followed up with a double bacon cheeseburger (he mentioned earlier in the convo he didn't really eat meat but "was just really feeling like a burger that day") and a slice of cheesecake for each of us.

I didn't realize how "off: the dude was until we went to Herb's Hideaway after, and before we'd even found a place to sit he'd ordered us each a PBR and a shot, plus a full Moscow Mule for me. When I mentioned I didn't really drink PBR, he said, "That's okay, I'll drink yours for you," and had downed both beers and shots before I was even halfway through my drink. At this point, he was leaning pretty hard, slurring his words, etc. and I just really wasn't feeling it so I went to the bathroom to call an Uber home. When it arrived, I tried to excuse myself and say I needed to head home. What I thought was him walking me to the car ended up with him getting into the Uber and trying to come home with me. Thankfully, I sat in the front and just made small talk with the driver while he was barely conscious in the back seat.

When we got dropped off, I made it clear nothing was happening that night and he needed to go home. Bro proceeds to sit on the curb and get emotional over how well he thought the date was going, and how all his relationships "end up this way," followed by an account of how many girlfriends he's screwed over in the past and how he ultimately felt like he was a bad person and needed to get his life together. Why didn't I walk away at this point? Maybe part of me was worried he'd wander into traffic, and another part of me was just too stunned to believe this was all real.

In any case, he kept making passes to come up to my apartment to use the restroom and I kept turning him down. When he finally seemed to have sobered enough to walk home, he tried one more time to come up and use my bathroom and I was even going to let him, but suddenly he says, "It's fine, I'll just go over here" while wandering off around the side of the building. I gave it a minute, he didn't come back, I think he's gone home, and I open my front door. My dude APPEARS OUT OF THIN AIR, sits down at the bottom of the staircase says, "I've ruined everything," and gets back up and leaves. I thought that was the end of it.

I wake up to seventeen disjointed text messages in which he explains that he hadn't been sleeping for several days straight, hasn't been eating much, and that the night before when he tried to go to the bathroom he sharted himself before he made it to the side of the building [ed: yes, she included texts for verification].

Then he has the audacity to still ask for another date after all this is said and done. All I can say in conclusion to this is:  Ladies, stay strong. It's a battlefield out there.

Epilogue: This dude was a serious rock climber and after I didn't respond for a few weeks, I got a picture of him at the top of some mountain with the text: "This could be you and me but we're both playing different games."

Have a story you'd like to share? Send it to "Dateless in Denver" at [email protected].