We’ve all had that moment (or many moments) in our love lives when we knew a guy was awful, like, say, when he told us he had to chew gum all the time because of his halitosis and rotten wisdom teeth, but we continued to let him put his tongue in our mouth for far too long after that. Not that any of us have done that. OK, maybe we have. What’s really intriguing about this phenomenon is how, when presented with this odd behavior or its equivalent in a friendship or any other situation in the entire world that doesn’t involve hooking up, we’d be out of there so fast. But there is an aura surrounding sex that makes us just be, like, whatever, and pull the wool over our own eyes. And once you’ve come out of the fog of denial, you’re left with a special kind of shame. Today, we unload that shame (well, anonymously) and admit that we were pulling the wool over our eyes with these guys. Consider these cautionary tales…
Scenario #1: The guy you’re not even remotely attracted to.
“When I moved to a new city and didn’t know anyone, I met a guy online. He was ugly. And I’m not exaggerating here. Ugly. He was boring, like we had zero in common and he liked Dave Mathews Band, which doesn’t work for my vagina. Anyway, I went on four dates with him total. On the second date, I got really drunk and took him back to my place. We had awful sex with him during which he said: ‘I like to do it froggy style’ and I almost vomited in my mouth. After all that, when he asked me out again, I still said yes. During the next date, when he showed up wearing mandals, I knew there was no way. Yet, I still hooked up with him, but couldn’t go through with sex. I just couldn’t. On the next date, physically repulsed by him, I had to tell him I wasn’t feeling it.”
Scenario #2: The guy who texts other girls he’s sleeping with in front of you.
“I hooked up with a guy for waaay too long who called the other girl he was dating on the phone, in front of me, to tell her she’d left her Chanel lipstick behind at his apartment.”
“In college I got together with one of my friends a couple times. One time– which should have been the last time– he started texting another girl. In bed. While I was right there. Still naked. Naturally, I continued to hook up with him on and off for the next two years. He was 6’4″, so that’s how I justified it. He would only text me when he was drunk. Now that I have a boyfriend, he feels wronged. We are still friends, obviously.”
Scenario #3: The guy who does something disgusting for a living.
“There was an entire summer I dated a guy who cleaned out the homes of people with hoarding problems for a living. For a germophobe such as myself, I should have known that it wasn’t going to last. ”
Scenario #4: The guy who has completely different political views than you.
“A couple years ago I dated a Republican. We really didn’t get along at all, for obvious political reasons, but the sex was really good in the way that hate sex can be great — aggressive and different. Anyway, I tolerated him and his stupid opinions for as long as I could, but eventually I had to end things because 1) he chastised me for yelling at anti-choice protesters harassing women outside the Planned Parenthood clinic and 2) he slapped me in the face during sex without warning let alone consent.”
“One of my favorite family legends is that one time my hippie aunt was hooking up with this guy in the forest, and at some point during their foreplay/sexy times, he mentioned that he had voted for Ronald Reagan, so she just got up and LEFT HIM IN THE WOODS.”
Scenario #5: The guy who cries to get you to have sex.
“A guy I dated would, on MANY occasions, attempt to have sex with me at the most inopportune moments, like I’d straight up be getting ready to leave for work or had just fallen asleep, and then when I’d brush him off as gently as possible he would whine. More than once, he cried, like crying would make me want to fuck?”
Scenario #6: The guy with the rotten wisdom teeth who sends dick pics.
“One online dating situation spawned a brief dalliance with a guy who told me, ‘I have to chew gum all the time because I have halitosis and a rotten wisdom tooth.’ He was always complaining of gastrointestinal difficulties and how he had to shit. I was like, shhhhhh. Then he would text me and be like, ‘I miss you so much,’ and I’d be like ewww, and then on one of those occasions I was like, ‘Look, you’re really nice but I’ve rekindled things with my ex so you should probably start hating me riiiiiiight now, AND GO.’ So yeah, cue him calling me a cunt, saying I was fucked up and manipulative, and a whore, but the best part of this story is the denouement in which, after weeks of not speaking, he sent me an unsolicited dick pic, captioned, ‘Miss it?’ L O FUCKING L.”
Scenario #7: The guy who can’t kiss.
“One night, I ended up hanging out with this guy out and even though he was pretty annoying (he kept on bragging about how little sleep he gets from his IB job) and a terrible dancer, he was was buying me drinks. And I really needed drinks. When we kissed, he was literally the WORST kisser in the world, like a rabid animal or something. I continued to make out with him for a bit but after a while I finally said we had different ‘kissing compatibilities’ and he actually agreed. He wanted to work on it, so I literally tried to tell him what to do, and after a few more dates and no improvement in our kissing compatibility, I told him it wasn’t working out. I also told him that the girls he sleeps with probably fake their orgasms.”
Scenario #8 The male feminist internet troll forehead kisser.
“I dated this dude for about six months after I broke up with a long-term boyfriend. He was considerably younger than me, but smart, funny, kind of attractive, and seemed like a fitting distraction while I got my shit back on track. At first, it was fine After about a month, I realized that he was quickly starting to show his colors as a weird, socially awkward, self-proclaimed ‘male feminist’ IRL internet troll who continued to play devil’s advocate in every conversation we had. The sex was decent in that it was sex, and I suppose it’s occasionally better to get some then none at all, and for a while I thought I was being too judgmental. ‘He’ll get better,’ I told myself. Guess what — he didn’t! After six months of making me and my friends uncomfortable by singing too loudly in public and ingratiating himself by kissing my friends on the forehead against their will, I couldn’t take it anymore and I broke up with him.”