Hi, friends. Did you wake up this morning with a post-holiday weekend case of the Mondays? Do your pants no longer fit after four days of carbo-loading? Are you still recovering from the trauma of attending your 10 year high school reunion? Or is that just me and L?
Never fear. We’ve got the cure here at Stucu, and that cure is other people’s misery. Schadenfreude FTW!
We LOVED reading your submissions to our ‘worst date ever’ contest: between the picture fraud, money drama, tooth issues, sexual harassment and general soul crushing awkwardness you shared, the three of us are (for once) feeling like our dating lives are not the bleakest on the planet. And for that, dear readers, we will be eternally grateful.
We’ve picked five worst date tales to share with you. We’ll post one story each day this week for your enjoyment, and on Friday when we post the last story you’ll be able to vote for your favorite. The three winners will receive some swanky Stucu swag (say that five times fast–dare you) but more importantly, the honor and glory of being pitied most grievously by their internet peers. Thanks to all who participated and happy reading!
Entry #1—Dental Drama
So when we say “worst date ever” contest, the original interpretation is quite obvious, but how about “worst date ever” when you are in fact the culprit? Let us begin.
Years ago I went on my first date with my now husband. We went figure skating and out to a pizza place I had never tried. To provide some very important and oh-so-embarrassing context, I have tooth implants. I have two fake teeth right up front in my mouth, and at that time, I was wearing one of those Invisalign retainers with two fake teeth in them. This retainer was quite old, and if you think food didn’t get stuck between the plastic and the fake teeth, think again. This led to some pretty unique food filled smiles (I could literally write a book).
So post pizza, my nerves high and wondering if there would be a kiss, I did what any toothless gal would do and waited for my date to become preoccupied. When he was searching around for the waiter to ask for the check (we split, #firstdatedebate), I pulled out my teeth to do an inspection. My gut was right: pasta sauce and cheese had manifested itself in my retainer in front of my teeth. Again, thinking my date was preoccupied, I did what at the time seemed logical (missing teeth = missing part of one’s brain), and started swirling my retainer around in a glass of water on the table like it was a god damn dishwasher.
The horror and curiosity on my date’s face was unparalleled. I knew I had absolutely blown it. It’s hard to really laugh at the whole “pulled out my dentures to clean them at the table while in a restaurant” routine, so the check came and we headed out. I was mortified at my own dental date behavior and thought that was it. My crush that I was obsessing over for 6 months was going to walk away. But obviously, since I’ve mentioned him as my husband, this story ends well. The true moral of the story here is: go to the bathroom to deal with your teeth issues, girls!
Full disclosure from the husband in the story: this practice continued for several years as S and others can attest. Thank god for the tooth implants…
I’m scared of this person. Who takes their teeth out at dinner? Half a brain indeed…
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