The first time I went to a club was a pretty nice time. Went early so I didn't have to pay cover, and the 18-year-old this story is about... let's call her Rachel... is there early too, and she's decked up in her club gear, and she's a legitimate 10/10. And she's immediatley showing me signs of interest, coming up to me with seductive body language and expressions. We didn't talk that much that evening because we spend much of the evening on the dance floor, and then I pulled her off of it and into a dark corner of the club were we have some heavy foreplay. After the club closed I envited her over to my place and we have the best sex of my life. She mentioned she's watched porn since she was 12, and she was down for about anything. So we bang repeatedly until morning, sleep until noon, and that's when the 'First Date Horror Story' starts.
She pitches the idea of spending the day together getting to know eachother. I said yes, and learn within hours that she is literally one of the worst people I've ever met, without a single redeeming quality other than her physical assets. She's one of those scheming and caniving bitches in high school that make people's lives, with lesser social status than her, living hells just for the pleasure of doing it. She was also racist against all Mexicans, because a Mexican hit her car, drove off, and was never caught. I could make a list of 10 other things about her, but those two are enough to get the point across.
The only reason I stayed with her for that long is because it was so surreal, that she couldn't possibly get worse and worse, and she did, so I felt compelled to keep watching the freak show. It was odd, like she was telling me everything horrible about her so that I would somehow find her more attractive, like she saw me as a potential husband. Around dinner I mention I have to get going, and she asks when was the next time we were going out. I reply 'I don't think so, you're a complete **** and I don't waste my time with ****s.'
She flips out, I leave with the biggest smile on my face.
After re-reading the post, it somewhat seems like I was in the wrong at the end. Trust me, if I actually listed all the things that were wrong with her, rather than just two, you'd understand. 'Yeah, but you didn't have to call her a **** to her face.' True, but I wanted absolute zero chance of her contacting me or anything whatsoever from her, and I'm a honest guy. I can tell anyone what I think of them to their face if they pissed me off enough, and Rachel offended me down to my core.