People Share Their First Date Horror Stories

The date is already off when she shows up in a visibly dirty white crop top, but it somehow finds another gear. Mid-meal, she starts absentmindedly poking at her exposed belly button, fully disengaged from the conversation and the setting.

Then she says it. Loudly. In a packed restaurant. “Ew, what the hell is that in my belly button?” Forks pause. Nearby tables clock in. Any remaining illusion of romance evaporates on the spot. From the outside, it’s less a date and more a public health announcement no one consented to attend.