Photo: JackF (iStock)

Dating is hard enough without any curveballs in the mix. But add an X-factor like extreme sports, or unpredictable animals, or really bad food, and it gets exponentially more awkward. In the spirit of solidarity, The Takeout staff will share our worst date-food stories, the times we were on dates where the food threw a monkey wrench in our best-laid plans. We can’t wait to laugh-cry as we read yours in the comments.


I’m reaching all the way back to high school for this story: During my senior year, I’d been asked on a first date by a guy I’d had a crush on for months. He suggested we go see a local band that was playing a few towns over. I was so excited for this and spent a week choosing what to wear, how to do my hair, etc. He picked me up, we drove to the address printed on the photo-copied show flyer, and… the venue wasn’t a venue. It was a person’s house. We were going to a basement show. This wasn’t the plan, but I rolled with it. (I was very into this guy.)

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Me in senior year of high school, around the time of the basement show Oreo incident
Photo: Kate Bernot

I can’t remember whether there was alcohol there or not, but he and I weren’t drinking. There we stood, on our first date, stone-cold sober and surrounded by about two dozen other suburban kids in our mall-punk clothes listening to a terrible band butcher their way through Sunny Day Real Estate covers. And I was starving. I’d be too nervous to eat all day, and figured we’d eat at the show, or on the way. Now I realized that definitely wasn’t happening. I didn’t know the town, so I didn’t know where we could grab food afterwards in those mysterious pre-smartphone days. To his credit, my date asked a kid who looked like he might somehow be involved in organizing this “show” whether they were going to order pizza or anything. The kid instead walked upstairs and returned with an armful of what appeared to be food he took from the house’s pantry. “I’ll sell you these Oreos for $5.”

So, a revision: There we stood, on our first date, stone-cold sober and surrounded by about two dozen other suburban kids in our mall-punk clothes listening to a terrible band butcher their way through Sunny Day Real Estate covers eating a random family’s Oreos that cost us $5. I would later ask this kid to my senior prom. —Kate Bernot, managing editor


After a severely long dry spell in my late 20s, I ended up meeting a guy who I really liked. We went on a couple of dates. Everything was great. I liked him more. And then, one night, we were lying around talking about nothing and the subject turned to food. More specifically, the food we missed and made us homesick. I knew then that it wasn’t going to last: it was way too melancholy a conversation for something as happy as the start of a relationship. We had the “It’s not you, it’s me” conversation two days later. —Aimee Levitt, associate editor

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After enjoying a three course dinner at a moderately priced, reasonably portioned restaurant, my date turned to me and said “I can’t believe you eat so much!” There was no second date. -Allison Robicelli, staff writer

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