Name: Heather
Pronouns: She/her
Age: 23
Occupation: Executive assistant
Dating history: Just moved to London after breaking up with my ex of a year and a half
Looking for: Something exciting
I matched with someone on an undisclosed dating app (okay, Tinder) and we met up for a drink in London. He currently lives in Kent and so had been planning on getting the last train home after we met, but… he missed it. I told him he could stay with me in my flat but I made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t going to sleep with him.
[IT_EPOLL id=”43553″][/IT_EPOLL]
Fast forward to when we’re back at mine, I begin to doze off and, all of a sudden, I feel him get up from my bed, hear him walk downstairs and try to open the front door (which you can only do with a key).
He was clearly struggling with the door quite a bit and it was only when I heard him have a short conversation with someone on the phone that I realised he’d ordered himself an Uber home! At this point, I knew he wasn’t going to be able to open the front door, so I decided to stay warm and relaxed in bed while he fumbled around in the dark.
Not long after, I heard a slam, followed by a loud yell from who I recognised to be my flatmate. I ran to the top of the stairs in panic, and saw my date halfway stuck out of the window, his legs flailing around in the corridor.
As my housemate later told me, she’d walked up towards our front door on her way back from a night out and spotted my date desperately trying to jimmy open the ground floor window. Because she’d been so drunk, she’d not fully processed the scene and so it was only when she heard him plead for her to let him out that she clocked on.
[IT_EPOLL id=”43556″][/IT_EPOLL]
Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I probably would’ve woken up the next morning and been completely spaced over how he’d managed to make his great escape.
He texted me the following day to let me know that he just didn’t want to make me feel uncomfortable or feel as though I had a responsibility to let him stay over. He was actually really sincere about the whole thing and said that he hoped he could see me again soon because he’d had a really lovely time. Clearly, he wasn’t put off at all by our slightly misshapen first date.
So, the question is: Do I give things another chance, or will I be setting myself up for another escape act?
[IT_EPOLL id=”43562″][/IT_EPOLL]
Got a date of your own you’d like some advice on? Submit your first date story by filling out this form below and we’ll help you solve all your romantic receipts.
Name: Mason
Pronouns: He/him
Age: 23
Occupation: Journalist and nerd
Dating history: Erratic
Looking for: Stability 🥹
I recently matched with a girl who coincidentally happened to be a flatmate of a friend I had made while living in Brighton. Things kicked off, and I planned a trip with my friends to visit our friend, who I’ll call Ella, and the girl I’d been chatting to, who I’ll call Anna. Little did I know I’d come away from this date bloody and bruised.
So, the trip to Brighton goes underway and Anna and I hit it off. There’s chemistry, sparks, embarrassed chuckles and romantic glances. I’m feeling good about it. Night time comes and we’re all still up enjoying the cold Brighton air, warmed up by cigarettes, zoots, beer and brews.
[IT_EPOLL id=”41678″][/IT_EPOLL]
The vibe between Anna and I is definitely romantic by this point. I’ve been with her all night, hands are held, she’s wearing my jacket—you know, all the sappy stuff. It’s time to decide on sleeping arrangements. Not enough space means I have no choice but to bunk with Anna, a once exciting prospect. Everyone skulks off to bed and me and Anna cuddle up on her creaky, single university mattress. Things start to heat up a little bit.
She kisses my neck, cool. She bites it, cool with that too, then she bites it really hard. Not so cool. I put up with it, maybe it was an accident. She continues to bite me way too hard—it wasn’t an accident. I’m putting up with it but we’re in painful territory now. This is far from sexy. I have literal bite marks on my chest and neck and is that blood? Oh my god, she’s drawn blood!
[IT_EPOLL id=”41682″][/IT_EPOLL]
I told her to stop, practically tearing her teeth from my flesh. I gave subtle directions and as many hints as I could to ease up on the gnawing but they didn’t seem to get through. I’m embarrassed to say I put up with more of her insatiable biting despite trying to explain to her what she was doing was really only just painful.
We left the next day but I was still so confused about what had just happened. Maybe she was just a really bad vampire? Everything pre-biting had been so great, our personalities had meshed really well. I’ve heard from her a few times since but I’m not sure if we’re suited enough in the romance area. Was I too quick to judge?
[IT_EPOLL id=”41686″][/IT_EPOLL]
Got a date of your own you’d like some advice on? Submit your first date story by filling out this form below and we’ll help you solve all your romantic receipts.