Y’allfags? Before we can talk about anything else ever again, I need to tell you a really humiliating story, mmkay?
Total Seventeen magazine “I-got-my-period-for-the-first-time-during-our-school-play-wearing-white-tights” moment.
It just happened. I am dying. I am dying.
*Warning* This story is sliiiightly gross, and it’s about human-body stuff.
Now I know some of you squeamish homosexuelles prefer to think of me as an ethereal body of light – a perfect and elegant rainbow fairy-being sparkling with dewdrops who writes to you from the back of a pure white unicorn scattering light from its mane.
Which is of course usually true.
So! Skip down to the owl picture if you don’t want to read about something a lil’ bit icky.
Ok you ready?
Here is the slightly gross part, up front:
I have a wart on the bottom of my left heel.
I KNOW I KNOW. I’m horrible. Look away, I’m hideous.
This wart has been there for years, and nothing I’ve tried makes it go away. It bugs me.
Warts freak me out – I can’t explain why. Something about a virus burrowing a hole deep into your skin, I dunno, just…euuuggggh.
So, because I have health insurance through my job for the first time since I’ve been a minor, I decided to go to the podiatrist and get it taken care of.
I was so pleased with myself.
Something that had bothered me for years, and poof! – it was gonna be history. Insurance!
Maybe the doctor would burn it off. Maybe he’d cut it out. Maybe he’d freeze it off. I didn’t care if it would hurt – I couldn’t wait.
I headed to my morning appointment, gleefully plotting the wart’s graphic demise.
The podiatrist’s office was in my neighborhood – actually right down my street. Arriving about 10 minutes early, I pushed open the door to the waiting room.
As I filled in my information on a clipboard, I could hear that the doctor was finishing up with another patient. It sounded like a girl about my age.
They were done. They opened the door and came out of the room together – the podiatrist and…my incredibly awkward OKCupid date from several months ago.
Let’s call my awkward date “Autumn.”
Autumn and I had messaged each other on OKCupid awhile back, and agreed to go out to a particular wine bar I love in the neighborhood.
She sounded perfect – also in an open relationship, cute, clever, you know. The whole thing.
When we met each other out, it didn’t go very well.
Actually, it was dreadful – Autumn was so hot! But we had zero chemistry.
I’m sure neither one of us felt a thing. (Which is really too bad, because she had an adorable haircut and curls that kept falling in her eyes.)
The date was a little forced, and as I walked home, I was thinking that Autumn might actually be a tiny bit mean – but in a very particular, razor-sharp, funny way that I tend to like.
You know – that peculiar brand of gentle bitchery that meant she might be a fun person to be friends with – she’d be able to come up with snappy comebacks on the spot at the bar! She’d make hilarious-yet-cuttingly-accurate observations under her breath! We’d laugh!
So I decided I’d see if Autumn wanted to be friends.
A few days after our no-chemistry date, I texted her, saying I’d be happy to hang out again sometime, if she ever wanted to.
She never replied, which is totally fine and what sometimes happens with online dating.
You win some, you lose some – it doesn’t matter.
Not everyone sees you for the special snowflake you so obviously are.
Still, for a second there, even though I know it’s only fucking OKCupid, I still felt like, “Oh man, now she thinks I totally want her, gaahhh.”
Fast-forward to the podiatrist’s office.
Autumn and the doctor walked up to the front desk.
She looked at me. I looked at her. Our eyes locked.
We knew each other.
And…we ignored each other.
Like real-ass grownups. Sooo mature.
Faggettes, the office was maybe 20 feet by 20 feet. We were the only patients in that room.
And we pretended we were total strangers.
With a sudden rush of horror, I looked down and realized that I was wearing the exact same outfit I’d worn on our date:
Hooker-tight polka dot dress. Enormous gold hoop earrings with the words “Ma Goodies” scrolling across them.
Bright red vintage wedge heels.
There was no mistaking me.
And so, as I was silently panicking and she was making her next appointment with the receptionist and we were ignoring each other in the very empty waiting room and I was thinking, “OMIGOD, I have to at least say hello when’s she’s finished, my god, we spent three hours together, fuuuuck, this is so awkward,” the doctor spied me.
“Hey, great, you’re early!” he said.
Then, in full view of Autumn, he clapped me on the back and bellowed, “Warts, huh? Come with me.“
And then I died, faggettes.
I actually died. I’m dead.
I’m writing this to you posthumously.
Not only did Autumn think I was a pathetic lesbian who desperately wanted her and only owned one outfit, she now thought I was covered in warts.
She gave me a seriously grossed-out look, finished up making her appointment with the nurse, and fled the scene.
I could almost hear her texting her best friend.
I wonder if that doctor has ever heard of a cute lil’ legal policy called HIPPA.
Anyway! Sometimes here on Effing Dykes we dig deep.
Sometimes we talk about cheating.
Sometimes we talk about family and religion.
Sometimes we talk about stereotypes.
SO HOW ‘BOUT TODAY WE DO SOMETHING LIGHT N’ FUN?
It’s a thousand degrees outside and we don’t have air-conditioning, let’s go sit on someone’s porch and drink cheap icy beer and talk shit!
I shared myyyy (most recent) dating humiliation story with you…
Let’s trade horrible embarrassing dating stories with each other!!
Last night, I facebook-messaged a whole herd of queers I know (even some boys!) and asked them for their Most Embarrassing Dating Story Ever.
‘Cause we’ve all gone out on terrible dates.
Maybe some *ahem* of us have been out on a lot of terrible dates.
I mean, dating is fucking rough! Especially queer dating! We should swap horror stories, right?
To make ourselves laugh! To learn! And to give solidarity and comfort to those gheys out there who are shoulder-deep (yes!) in the dating trenches!
By this morning, tons of emails were flooding ew my inbox, and I was able to sift through them to bring you some really good ones!
Ready for them?
I give you:
Queer Dating Humiliation Stories: A Real-Life Roundup
#1. When I first started dating my girlfriend, she lived in another city and was traveling to visit me for the first time. We hardly knew each other then. I was so goddamn nervous and didn’t know how I was going to fill the inevitable awkward moments when she first arrived at my house. When she got there, I panicked and made the executive decision to show her my secret unicorn collection. While showing the collection, I noticed that one of my unicorn figurines had a broken foot, so I made another executive decision in hopes that it would demonstrate how incredibly handy I am. I busted out the super glue.
The cap to the super glue was glued on (shocking, I know), so I opened it with my teeth. It broke open and squirted all over the inside of my mouth. Trying to play it cool, I casually picked up my phone and headed down the hallway as if I was going to make a call. It only got worse.
In short: I super-glued the entire inside of my mouth, then my hand to the phone, THEN my phone to my face, but only AFTER I revealed my secret unicorn collection.
#2. I finally took this hot girl home that I had been fawning over for months. While in the throes of hot sweaty amazing sex, she pulled a knife on me and started tracing it up my body, saying she liked to play with knives. Instead of being cool, because I was pretty sure she was just fucking with me, I froze like a statue and whimpered, “My mom knows where I am right now, so you better not hurt me.”
#3. I was on a second date with this girl I really wanted to impress, and for some reason, “impressing her” translated into “showing her how tough I was by eating incredibly spicy food.” I casually covered the insides of my Vietnamese sandwich with jalepeno peppers while she watched me. She was like, “That’s not a good idea” but I shrugged her off because I am so MACHO and I took a bite. My face turned bright red and I tried to act natural but uncontrollable tears were streaming down my face and I started gasping and then CRYING FOR REAL like an actual baby. I’ve never seen someone laugh so hard in their entire life. She got me a glass of milk and has proceeded to make fun of me for going on five years now.
#4. I stashed extra individual tampons inside my umbrella for an overseas journey. I forgot about them. Months later, I went out on a date, it began to rain, and I opened the umbrella. Suave.
#5. One night, a woman who’d been pursuing me for awhile and who I’d been ignoring had a few drinks at my house, and I invited her to stay over. The lights went out and it was on. The whole night I was fixated on how amazing this woman I’d been overlooking for months was.
I kept having to sniff. However, this was not the time to stop and get a tissue. While straddling her naked and kissing her neck, my sniffling became noticeable. I was going to have to get up. Still straddling her, I sat up to get a tissue and turned the light on. THERE WAS BLOOD EVERYWHERE like a movie horror scene. A fucking nosebleed! All over her! She held a tissue to my nose, I cleaned off her neck, and we went back at it, but really? What fucking luck – I’ve only had three nosebleeds in my entire life!
#6. When I was just a baby gay in high school, I’d often go stay with my girlfriend and her family on the weekends. One morning, I was climbing, buck naked, into the shower after my naked girlfriend when the bathroom door opened and her shocked father appeared on the other side.
Both of us froze before he slammed the door.
#7. The one time I fooled around with someone in a public bathroom…was the one time I DRENCHED her hoodie sleeve with my, errr…lady ejaculate. People call it “getting down to business” for a reason – roll up your sleeves!
#8. *As told to me on gchat by one of my favorite gay boys!*
James: OK soooooo embarrassing story time, because you asked for it
James: I used to “date” a closet case, and whenever we’d hook up we’d have to get at least little intoxicated beforehand. One time we did Ecstasy.
James: I don’t know if you’ve ever done it, but ecstasy like makes you REALLY horny, but for guys, it also makes it hard to umm…get it up
and even harder to get off
Me: I’ve never done E
James: Ok so the closet case #1 couldn’t get hard for a while at first and #2 just WOULD NOT COME. Most people might cut their losses and go to bed but for some reason I saw it as like a personal failure or something so I kept trying, and trying, and TRYING…and long story short there was some uhh… chaffing
James: The full extent of which was not noticed until the morning
so that’s my embarrassing moment…
the bloody handjob.
Me: Wait. Whoaa.
I am really confused
YOU GAVE HIM A HANDJOB…
UNTIL HE WAS BLEEDING???
holy holy shit
It was a blowjob, but after I couldn’t do that anymore it was a handjob.
How long did you do this for???
im like dying laughing
James: Lol I couldn’t even tell you. We were high. But there WAS lube so it had to have been a while
Me: You’re kidding me. LUBE!! IT MUST HAVE BEEN LIKE HOURS!!!
James: We hooked up again for a few weeks after that, but the bloody handjob was never spoken of again
Me: I can’t believe it!
He came back for moooore?
He’s so forgiving!
James: He was in the closet – I don’t really think he had a lot of options at the time.
He had to wear bandaids
it was a mess
#9 and 9 1/2: During college, I woke up one morning on my ex-girlfriend’s living room floor, with a guy, in a cold puddle of puke. I couldn’t remember what happened. Then I had a flashback of the night before: My ex-girlfriend had been trying to date this guy, but he wound up liking me. We had all drunkenly gone home together. And… I had thrown up on his dick when I tried to give him head.
It was an awkward morning.
*Folks!* Of the more than 40 embarrassing stories my friends mailed me, I received no less than four “I threw up on his dick” stories from lesbians. That is 10%.
Is this a thing?
I’m so glad y’all found your way to the labia, ladies.
–My first and last time ever giving a blow job he grabbed the back of my head and pushed down. I, having a very sensitive gag reflex, threw up the $140 dinner he had just bought all over his penis. Good thing I’m a lezzer and don’t do that anymore.
#10: The very first time I spent the night with a girl in her dorm, we were drunk. We had sex, and then we fell asleep together. In the middle of the night, I woke up because I had to fart really bad, so I sort of scooted away from her, checked to make sure she was sleeping, and did the deed.
The next morning there were some..streaks on the sheets.
Actually, all over the sheets.
And the blankets.
I had been waiting years to lose my virginity and I SHARTED ALL OVER MY DATE’S COMFORTER ON THE BIG NIGHT.
Ohhhh I loved all of these so much.
I feel so much better!
How ’bout it, queermosexuals?
Who’s got a humiliating dating story?
Let’s overshare, shall we?
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Krista Burton is brand-new to Chicago. An ex-Mormon from Minneapolis, she writes a blog called Effing Dykes (www.effingdykes.blogspot.com), which is about activating your lesbian gaydar. She spends most of her time staring longingly at enormous dogs, riding her shiny orange scooter around town, and trying to bake gluten-free cake that doesn’t taste like gluten-free cake. She’s a staff writer at Groupon, and loves girls, inappropriate footwear, and hip-hop songs with filthy lyrics.