The Worst Tinder Date Ever (Update)

A few days ago, I wrote about a very awkward blind date that I watched fall apart quicker than a soft corn taco from Chipotle when it’s made by a new person and they put too much fucking lettuce in it. Click here to read it. The date happened last Thursday and I now have an update about the the serial dater.

First off, the seemingly undateable woman did stay true to her word and came back to the restaurant the next day with a crisp five-dollar bill in hand since she was unable to leave me a tip the night before. That in and of itself makes this woman a better catch than 90% of the other slags we deal with as customers. I mean, honestly, how many times do people tell us, “Oh, I’m short on cash tonight so I’ll catch you next time” only to never see them again? This woman deserves a good date on that alone.

I was not at work on the day she came back in, but I was told that she met another potential man of her dreams on the night she brought in the additional tip. I was also told that she wore the same flouncy, white lace top for this date but that by some miracle of miracles, her bra straps were not hanging out all over the place. This tells me that she at least tried that time since. This new date seems to have gone much smoother.

Says my eagle-eyed spy/bartender, Katy Murphy O’Malley of the County Louth (the name has been changed to protect the person who make the drinks), “I watched her and they were engaging each other. They were talking and she seemed interested in what he was saying.” They even got to eat food together which is more than I can say about her last dating experience. The closest either of them got to eating anything was when the guy vomited in his mouth a little bit and then swallowed it back down again.

This is all well and good, but I learned that I had misheard what the man said as he bolted out from the restaurant escaping the first date. I thought he said she was “harsh” and a “harsh woman” when he ran past me faster than I suck down an over-pour of a French Martini. “”Not true,” said Katy. “He didn’t say ‘harsh,’ he said ‘horror show’ and ‘that woman is a horror show’.”

Ouch, it was even worse than I had imagined. It’s one thing to be harsh but quite another to be a horror show. What went down on that first date? (Not her…) How awful does one have to be to cause a man to basically run out of a restaurant and call you a horror show? Or how awful of a man do you have to be to think it’s okay to abandon a date and call her a horror show to some random server? And how awful is that server for going home and blogging about it? (Answer about the server: not really that awful, but definitely kind of a bitch…)

So here is where we are now with the story of the woman who just wants to find love: we know she’s a good tipper, we know she probably has a first date look that she wears each time she is first meeting someone and the bra straps may or may not be hanging out, we know she will never give up on love and we know that her latest date didn’t crash and burn like the Hindenburg.

I wish her good luck on her quest for love and I hope that she always has her first dates in my section so I can blog about them.


  1. Mary

Leave a Reply

I want two things: a shift drink and your email address!

Someday, if I ever get my act together, I might send out a weekly newsletter about the wonderful goings on of the restaurant industry. Or maybe I won't.