Category: Dating Stories

Butler Please! Go Overboard! Man Drowns in Girlfriend’s Snot

butler please go overboard

It was just a random night out with my boyfriend and his friends, or so I thought. I had no idea the night would end with my snot all over my boyfriend’s face.

My boyfriend and his friends picked me up to take me to the party. The party was fine, nothing special about this one. It was just like any other Saturday night, except I was just getting over a cold.

On the ride home, my boyfriend and I sat in the back seat of the car, with his friends in the driver and passenger seats, respectively. About ten minutes from my house, we started making out, you know, just to get in some good tonsil hockey before we pulled into my driveway. During this makeout session, his friend seated in the passenger seat said something ridiculously funny which caused me to express the laugh through my nose, seeing as how my mouth and tongue were currently in use. As this force of air expelled through my nasal passages, my cold of yesterday roared its ugly head and snot spurted from my nose onto his face, mouth, and lips like a fire hose being turned on at full force. He was basically drinking my snot at this point. MAN OVERBOARD, MAN OVERBOARD!! He’s going to drown!!

So, I sit in the backseat forced with the question “WHAT DO I DO NOW?” Butler, please?? Can I get a tiny freaking Butler the size of the Snap, Crackle, Pop characters to come magically clean this up?? I mean, I am in a car, there is no escape. The friends have full knowledge this is happening and they are laughing so hard they are crying. Thank God it was dark because I would rather not have seen the disgust and shock on my boyfriend’s face. So, I did the only thing I could think of, and I used my sleeve to wipe his face and mine. Guess I’ll have to be my own butler. Duly noted, universe. Obviously, there was no making out after that abysmal performance.

I was never so happy to pull into my driveway and exit a car. I’m not even sure I said goodbye. I think I just got out and walked inside. Fortunately, he was pretty cool about it. I don’t remember hearing about it from him or his friends, but I’m certain they all had a pretty good laugh about it on multiple occasions.

Moral of the Story: Do not makeout when you are sick, even if you think you are well. You’re obviously not.

Stay Glittery, Daters!

xoxo

Candice

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Enough is Enough, Mademoiselle

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I once went on a triple date. Three girls. Three guys. Dinner. Dancing. After party. Seems simple enough, right? Well, it was until that moment where I had a little conversation with myself that went something like “Enough is Enough, Mademoiselle!” and left the after party.

After the dinner and the dancing, we went back to one of the guys’ apartments. To this day, I do not remember any of the guys or the other girls on the date. They were all nice enough, and were all pretty cool people. I must have blocked it out of my memory altogether, because the only thing that has ever stuck with me is what caused me to hide out near a dumpster at the end of the night.

At the after party, we had a few drinks and some h’ors d’oeuvres just sitting around chatting like normal post-party 20-somethings do. The apartment was really nice, and showcased a lovely white sectional. All the ladies were seated on the white sectional while the guys prepared everything in the kitchen. The chatter was lively, the music was upbeat, and everyone was having a great time.

I was wearing an adorable sleeveless lace top with a spring floral print skirt. I had been sitting on the white couch chatting with the ladies with my knees sweetly tucked under my bum sipping wine. I got the urge to make a dash to the ladies room. Nothing overly dramatic, but the wine was flowing. I stood, and turned to look at the girls to see if I could get them anything on my return from the loo. Their faces were faces of shock, confusion, pity. Their eyes gazed upon the white couch. My sight line slowly made its way to the couch.

OMG! This is NOT happening. Where’s the escape hatch? The rip cord? The trap door? My invisibility cloak? My ability to time travel? Clearly, my super powers were not working today, and nothing was going to save me now.

I had started my period on this guy’s white couch. Who buys a WHITE couch in their twenties?! I became angry at this guy for having a white couch to begin with, but I think my brain was just trying to process the inevitable. It wasn’t just a little bit  that could’ve been easily cleaned or covered, it was everywhere. My cute spring floral print skirt looked like a murder had taken place on it. What does a girl actually do in this situation? I couldn’t very well ask for some cleaner and attempt to remove blood from a white couch while 5 people watched in horror. That would have taken the embarrassment to downright masochism.

So, I did what any self respecting person would do, and I picked up my purse and walked out the back door. I did not say a thing. I did not say goodbye. To my great fortune, nobody chased after me. I feared that might happen, but I was now presented with a whole new issue, where the eff was I supposed to go and how was I to get there? I didn’t have my car, and I had been having cocktails. I remembered that my best friend was having a “night in” that night at my apartment hanging out with my dog, so I called her to come get me. The conversation went something like this:

BFF: Hey, why are you calling me? I thought you were on a date?

Glitter: Oh, I was. Now, I’m not. I NEED you to come get me.

BFF: Why? What happened? Are you okay?

Glitter: Um, I started my period on his white couch.

BFF: ((uncontrollable laughter)) ok. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Wait, where are you?

Glitter: I’m at the XYZ Apartments hiding by the dumpster, and it stinks.

BFF: Oh, honey. I’m getting in my car now. I’ll call you when I pull in.

Glitter: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

BFF: Hang on, so you just walked out?

Glitter: Yeah, what was I supposed to do? Scrub it with carpet cleaner only to watch it bleed all over the rest of the white couch? No pun intended.

BFF: ((More laughter)) I don’t think this guy will be calling you again.

Glitter: Yeah, I figured that. Please hurry.

Needless to say, I never heard from the guy again; not that I expected to. Thank goodness I didn’t personally know any of the girls. Having to relive that moment every time I saw one of them would’ve been too much. I felt bad about leaving his couch in such terrible shape. I would’ve called back an offered to have it cleaned, but I just could not bring myself to do so. I chickened out every time I picked up the phone. I now wish I would have at least done that because it would have been the right thing to do. But, for me enough was enough, mademoiselle.

Stay Glittery, Daters!

xoxo,

Candice

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Dating Glitter: Your Boss as Your Matchmaker = Disaster

 

*Names have been changed to protect the Guilty and the Embarrassed.

Boss* and I decided to go out for lunch one nice day. Boss is NOT a quiet person. (Think of a 6’2″ Nene Leakes  with a hell of a brain and a spark plug for a personality.) She is loud, as in the type of person who couldn’t whisper if she tried.

As we enter the restaurant, we are seated at a table by the hostess, but simultaneously see a colleague we know seated with a young gentleman. (herein “Gentleman”) They invite us to join them for lunch. We wiffle-waffle and say “no thank you.” Boss debates with herself and the “me” she believes may express an invisible opinion. I sit in my chair, flash a warm smile, and say “no thank you, we’re fine.” At that moment, Boss says “Oh come on, Glitter,* lets join them. MOVE!” (À la military drill sergeant voice).

I stand. I remove my coat from the back of the chair and grab my purse. I take two steps toward the table a mere six feet away from me, and at the moment my right Calvin Klein heel clicks against the wood floor, I hear, “DON’T WORRY, Glitter, HE’S ENGAGED!” in the loudest voice possible. It’s so loud, in fact, a bull horn would have been more subtle. The entire restaurant goes silent, turns, and looks at us. You could hear a pin drop. No utensils clinking on plates. No jiggling of ice in water glasses. No chatter. Nothing. Nothing but unadulterated embarrassing silence and stares that are ripe with curiosity. Even the waitresses are still, balancing trays of food on atop their hands, staring.

Glitter: 0

Boss: 1
What the eff? Do I look that desperate. Holy sh@!, I must. In the 25 seconds it took for us to move to the table, Boss had already debriefed the well-dressed young gentleman and analyzed his potential to actually take me on a date. The realization then hits me: I now have to sit down and eat lunch with these people. What else could possibly go wrong?

Gentleman now thinks I am going to pounce him like a lion eating prey. I can see the fear in his eyes, and the rigidity in his face; the preparation to the brace of awkwardness. He must think I’m going to swallow him whole as I sit. He appears legitimately scared. This lunch is going SO WELL!

Glitter: 0

Boss: 2

In an effort to restore normal lunching procedure, I drape my coat around the back of the chair. I then drape my tiny Coach messenger purse around the small wooden chair’s finial. I turn and pivot on my left heel, and sit down. Well, I attempt to sit down, and there is NO CHAIR!!! Where is the damn chair!? What is happening? My brain is yelling, “Hey, Universe, SERIOUSLY?!” Apparently the weight of my very small bag combined with my coat was just too much for this chair to handle. It gave up and collapsed on the floor behind me. In my slow descent toward the floor, my awesome cat-like reflexes managed to land me in some Salt-n-Peppa “Push It” video sexually suggestive break-dancing move. I have both high heels firmly planted on the floor along with my right arm; my hips are in the air placing me in some weird backbend position; and my left arm is flailing in the air above me like a solid gold dancer.

I stand up, and gracefully (or what I believe is the most graceful way to maneuver out of the Salt-n-Peppa-backbend-disco position), put my coat around the back of the chair. AGAIN!I drop my purse on the floor in despair and plop down in the chair.

Glitter: 0

Boss: 3

Chair: 1

The entire restaurant is looking at me like I am some socially awkward alien. But I can also see each of them trying desperately to hold back loud guffaws. I mean, hey, it’s hilarious when someone gets embarrassed and then falls, right?

I look at Boss and say, “It’s bad enough that you have to make me look desperate, but did you really have to kick out my chair?” The entire restaurant laughs. I feel a little vindicated. Thank God Boss was a good sport about that comment.

Glitter’s Quick Wit: 1 (FINALLY!!)
Boss/Chair: 4

I later relayed this entire incident to my mother, who laughed uncontrollably at my series of unfortunate events. She asked but one question: “Well, were you wearing underwear?” MOM!!! But to answer that question, I am thankful I was wearing pants that day. A dress would’ve landed me in a far worse moment.

Stay Glittery, Daters!

xoxo

Do you have an embarrassing dating moment you’d like featured on Bitter Glitter? If so, email your stories to BitterGlitterBlog@gmail.com with “Dating Disaster” in the subject line. Rest assured that Bitter Glitter will never use your real name or any real name contained in your story. Bitter Glitter will always maintain your privacy and will never sell your email address or personal information to third parties.

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Welcome to Bitter Glitter!

Thank you for stopping in to check out Bitter Glitter. I aim to bring beauty reviews, dating disasters, wine knowledge, and the occasional DIY project to your fingertips, all with a little sass and fun.

My first post should be an actual makeup review, but I decided to save the $7, and put it towards the beginning of this blog. So, that review will come soon, just not today. However, for reviews, I will always be honest with you. I am not paid, sponsored or endorsed by any company. For transparency, if I am provided products by a company, I will let you know how I received those products in the review. With that said, I will always give my honest opinion whether the product is great or awful. If you have specific products you would like to see reviewed, please comment below, and “I’ll be right on top of that, Rose.” (if that doesn’t make sense to you, please go watch Mom, The Babysitter’s Dead with Christina Applegate.)

You will also find wine reviews here. I am a wine enthusiast and have a host of friends who enjoy this little drink as much as I. We drink a lot of wine, we talk about a lot of wine, and we do our research. Specifically, you’ll find information on the wine itself, including price, varietal, vintage, region, and tasting notes. Everyone’s palate is different, so please remember that my favorite wine might be your most hated, and vice versa. But, I will also provide you with tips on how you can discover what your palate likes and how to shop for those wines simply by looking at the labels.

In addition to wine and beauty, we WILL discuss some serious dating blunders. Some of them will be mine, some will be friends’ stories, and some will be some we’ve heard through the grapevine. You’ll never know who is who or where the story came from as I will change the names to protect the guilty and the embarrassed. If you have a great dating story and would like it to be featured on Bitter Glitter, please email it to BitterGlitterBlog@gmail.com with “Dating Story” in the subject line! Let’s make it interactive, and keep it clean. I reserve the right to edit profanity or vulgar content.

I look forward to what’s to come. I’m so glad you’re here!

Stay Glittery!

xoxo,

Candice

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