When it comes to bad dates, let’s face it ladies . . . we all have a share-worthy story to tell! Tell us what went down on your worst date ever! Email your story to TrueLoveMagazine@yahoo.com. And don’t forget to check in every Wednesday for your dose of Worst Date Wednesday!

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I was really excited the whole day at work because after a long dry spell I finally had a date! Brian was someone I had known from the gym, talked to from time to time, and I thought would be good match for me. We both shared the joy of working out and I was really excited to see what other things we had in common.

The only set back was Brian is nine years my junior, but I figured age doesn’t matter anymore, right? I was also excited because it happened to be the day before Valentine’s Day so I thought to myself, I won’t be alone on this day for once.

The time approached and I got ready for the night. We happened to get a lot of snow that day so the weather outside was brutal. I was looking forward to not having to drive in the bad weather. As I was just finishing the touches on my makeup, I received a text message from Brian telling me to meet him at the restaurant because he was already there. I was slightly annoyed, but I knew his brother worked at the restaurant so I figured he was discussing something with him.

When I got there Brian was there with two of his other friends and he had already eaten. Rather than cause a scene in front of his friends I went along with it and we all had some drinks. Brian had many drinks and got wasted. He eventually asked if he could stay at my place since he lived with his parents and didn’t want to wake them. I agreed, but was not happy about it. We got to my place and I let him sleep in my bed and I took the couch.

When morning came I noticed that he was on the floor in my room. I didn’t understand why at first, and then I realized that he had peed in my bed. When he woke up he acted like it was no big deal and asked why I was mad. I immediately said that he had to leave.

I guess it just goes to show you that it’s fine to date someone younger than you, but make sure they are old enough to be potty trained!

—Lori Henning, Iowa

When it comes to bad dates, let’s face it ladies . . . we all have a share-worthy story to tell! Tell us what went down on your worst date ever! Email your story to TrueLoveMagazine@yahoo.com. And don’t forget to check in every Wednesday for your dose of Worst Date Wednesday!

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Mothers mean well, but they don’t always know what’s best—especially when it comes to playing matchmaker in their daughter’s love lives.

Mama was worried that I, at just twenty-one years old, was too critical when it came to men and dating. I knew what type of men I was attracted to, and it wasn’t the sons of the women in Mama’s card group. But she just wouldn’t stop meddling in my love life.

“I want you to meet Ruth’s handsome son, Markie,” Mama said excitedly. She had told Ruth that I didn’t feel “complete” because I didn’t have a boyfriend.

Markie was the umpteenth loser I met though Mama’s matchmaking. He was twenty years my senior and had obviously never been introduced to personal hygiene products. Markie’s foul stench, greasy hair, and green, toothy grin was nauseating. He lived with his sickly, elderly parents in a one-bedroom apartment; the sofa in the living room was his “room.” He worked from time to time as a graphic designer for an independent newspaper company in Long Island that was run by his aunt and uncle.

I didn’t agree to go out with him to boost his ego or to please myself; it was to make Mama happy. At the time, I lived in New York City. Markie had a phobia that prevented him from learning to drive—although I think it was more about cheapness than fear—so he had to take the train.

There are countless great, ethnic restaurants in Manhattan, but Markie’s “allergies” and “sensitive stomach” would not allow him to experiment with all the exotic herbs, spices, and flavors of my favorite foods. Markie could only eat bland, boring, American cooking, from chain-owned establishments. At the end of the date, I was the one stuck paying the bill, not to mention the tolls and parking fee. And on top of all that, I even had to give him money to ride the train back to Long Island. Had I known he was a paranoid moocher beforehand, I would never have agreed to let him take me out!

After explaining my worst date ever to Mama, I begged her not to interfere again in my search for “Mr. Right”—or else she could date him herself!

—Rochelle D. S., South Carolina

When it comes to bad dates, let’s face it ladies . . . we all have a share-worthy story to tell! Tell us what went down on your worst date ever! Email your story to TrueLoveMagazine@yahoo.com. And don’t forget to check in every Wednesday for your dose of Worst Date Wednesday!

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I was coming home from the Farmer’s Market early one sunny Saturday morning when I pulled up to a stoplight.

“Hello,” said the man in the car next to mine.

“Hi,” I said back to the unknown gentleman.

“Can you pull over for a second?” he asked, right before the light changed.

So we pulled over and exchanged phone numbers through the car windows—never getting out of the car.

We must have talked on the phone for two to three weeks before actually meeting for our first date. He was a very good-looking man and he drove a nice car. He told me he played guitar for his church choir. With everything I knew about him, I felt comfortable, so I invited him over to my place. When he showed up he had flowers, a card, and candy! Whoa!

There was one problem with this man that seemed so perfect—he was five-foot-one! Now, I am six-foot-one and I was looking down at him while he was looking up at me. I did not know what to say to such a nice and good-looking man that was just too short for a woman of my height.

“This won’t work,” I finally said. “But we can be friends.”

He looked upset and tried to tell me that it didn’t matter to him. But that was him, not me—because it matters!

I’m sure it was the worst date for the both of us. Next time I will be sure to get out of the car before I exchange phone numbers with another man.

—Ella Foster, Michigan