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When it comes to horrible dates, we've all been there, done that...maybe even done it again. ' Me: 'Ummmm.' (He kept saying 'what else' like to hurry the convo or something—it was really weird)Him:'Ugh, do you know anything? My date repeatedly and periodically yelled, 'I know you think this is my fault, but it’s not! ' To which I screamed, 'I’m not the one who cried in the cop car,' to general merriment."After emailing with Henry on Ok Cupid for about a week, we decided to meet at Home Sweet Home on Chrystie Street for a date.

And everyone knows the real freaks congregate in NYC, meaning terrible one-on-ones are amplified in the most gruesome way, and often broadcasted across Facebook for all the world to recount. You had us laughing, crying, laughing again, and then almost vomiting. OMG, look behind you, I've been trying to figure out these people since I got here.' Me: 'Hmm, interesting group. In my mind, I was stoked for drinks with a hot, bearded, blue-eyed hipster from Long Island City, not someone with delusions about being a reincarnated American Civil War Yankee officer.

On day two, my challenge was to say hello to someone on the subway.

If you were a stripper what song would you come out to? I watched in dumb terror as his handlebar mustache said he'd had a great night, then briskly planted one straight on the kisser, blurting, 'Very good! Very bad, indeed.""When I first moved to the city, I decided that I would do something challenging each day.

We end up going to Lucky Strike in Soho where he orders a fancy bottle of wine, and proceeds to tell me that he just graduated from Columbia, won an award for ‘entrepreneur of the year,’ and is starting a clothing line.