My date from Hell and how it cost me my best friend

You think you know how this story ends, but you don't…

HER Veracity

I met a guy through my best friend. Stories that start that way never end well. He was in a band she’d recently joined and she was elated about it. I lived in the country and she lived in the city. I visited her one weekend and we dressed like thirst-traps and had a hilarious drunken night on the town.

We planned a beach day the next morning but we were off to a slow start. We laid in bed watching last night's Snapchats, laughing so loud the walls vibrated. As we relived our shenanigans, her bandmate kept texting her. He insisted on coming to the beach, likely watching the same sexy Snaps we were. 

He met us at the beach. I wasn’t very social; I was nauseous and hangry. That didn’t matter to him because I was in a bikini. He wanted us to come to his place that night but we decided on dinner at my friend's house. At dinner, he drilled me with personal questions. I suspected he was interested in me and was clear I just went through a break-up and wasn't ready to sleep with anyone yet.

Regardless, he texted my friend after he left and asked for my number. He asked me out immediately. My friend and I were a little giddy about it. It's nice to be desired. He said he'd come to me for our date. I agreed but warned him it couldn’t be a late night because I worked the next morning. I explicitly told him he was not spending the night. I told him repeatedly I needed to take things slow. 

He flew a few red flags right away. For example, he kept insisting on seeing me the next day, even though I was with my mother. When Thursday arrived, he said he was going to work at his cabin before our date and wanted to shower at my house. This made me very uncomfortable. I told him no, he has two choices: be sweaty or don’t go to your cabin. I waited until the last minute to give him my address so he couldn’t show up early. When I opened the door, he grabbed me and kissed me, full tongue. We'd only met in person twice, and while we'd been talking, we weren’t dating.

We had a glass of wine, then walked to a pub for open-mic night. I figured he would like that since he's a musician. We had a lot of fun. He had two beers and I had one. Things turned dark when we returned to my place. On the walk home, he was acting drunk. When we arrived, I gave him some water and told him I’d brew coffee so he could sober up.

“I’m spending the night,” he said. I was shocked and asked him why he would drink so much if he knew he had to drive home?

“I obviously wasn’t going to come all the way here to go on a date with you and not sleepover,” he said. I’ll never forget the fear it sparked in me. He'd planned all along to spend the night. I told him no and he kept saying yes, he was staying. I said he had to sleep on the futon. He grabbed me and kissed me. I kissed back at first then pulled away.

“Why don’t you like me?” He wined like a four-year-old who was refused an action figure at the supermarket. “Why won’t you kiss me?” I told him I needed to go to bed because I work early. He grabbed me and kissed me again, picked me up, and laid me on the couch. I felt his hands go quickly up my shirt and under my bra, fondling my naked breasts and I tried to pull away. He began to unbutton my jeans and my heart raced frantically. I said "No, we're not doing that," and pushed my knees up, kicking him off me. He angrily yelled, “Why do you act like sleeping with you is worth a million bucks?”

“Because it is!” I yelled back. He grumbled that I tasted like garlic, and I spat back that I ate garlic dip with my pizza because I wasn’t planning on making out with him. I went upstairs and made up the futon while downstairs he insisted on sleeping with me. He refused to come upstairs until I agreed, promising he wouldn’t touch me. I told him he could sleep on the couch, so he relented and took the futon but he begged me to lay down with him. I told him no and he insisted he wouldn’t do anything, just cuddle. I told him no, I’m going to bed but he grabbed my arm and pulled me on the futon. My elbow smashed into the metal frame and I scrambled up quickly. He grumbled angrily "Why won't you cuddle me?" 


"Because I don't want to," I told him. I went to my bedroom and locked the door. I’d never felt so unsafe in my own home. He took away my control; he'd planned all along, despite what I consented to, to sleepover. I suspect he often manipulates drunk girls into bed. But I wasn’t drunk and while I was in an impossible situation due to his connection to my friend, I wasn’t going to submit.

I called my friend from bed and described the events of the night. I felt guilty; I didn’t want to do anything that could harm her affiliation with the band. Shocked by his behaviour, she agreed it was unacceptable. I told her I was locked in my room and was afraid he’d come to my door. She asked if I wanted her to talk to him. I said no and she was relieved. I wanted to put the awful night behind me. While he assaulted me, it could have been much worse.

He texted me incessantly at sunrise but I ignored him. When I woke up, I read:

“Hey, great eve, thx for letting me crash, tough sleep on that futon and well you being so close… I’m taking off.”

Later that day he texted again. After I texted an unenthusiastic reply, he asked if I'd had a good time. I told him I had fun at the bar but after was “a bit much for me though, I’m not going to lie.” I didn’t want to make things awkward for my friend. At the same time, I didn’t want to say "You’re not my type." I wanted him to know I didn’t want to see him again because of his behaviour. He told me he was drunk but he remembered everything. How could a man who remembered everything think I’d see him again?

Over the following year, he became a running joke in my dating story backlog. ‘The rapey date guy’ I called him, although I tried not to insult him in front of my friend. He Snapchatted me flirty messages occasionally but I tried not to engage. The following summer he and my friend went on a trip. She visited me after and told me she has sex with him on the trip. My stomach bubbled with nausea. As she described how amazing it was my disgust could no longer be contained. I told her I never wanted to hear about him again. She was shocked by my disgust and I was shocked she found it shocking. I had tolerated an uncomfortable, unsafe situation so she could continue to be comfortable in her band and a year later it was like she forgot what he did to me.

Soon after he texted me a long message that included “I’m sorry for offending you and hurting your feelings.” He said he was drunk and didn’t remember. He said my friend talked to him about what happened. He didn’t apologize for his actions- he apologized for how his actions made me feel. It was the half-assed, forced #MeToo apology I’d hoped I’d never receive.

I was furious with my friend. She talked to him without consulting me first and encouraged him to contact me. We argued over text and she agreed it was wrong to talk to him about me without my consent. She insisted the situation had bothered her for a long time and she felt compelled to talk to him. I rebutted with the fact that if she felt so strongly about what he did to me, how could she sleep with him? She said she developed feelings for him. Feelings that clearly trumped her loyalty to me. She didn't do it to stick up for me, she did it to relieve her guilty conscience. She texted “I was hoping to help resolve the situation.”

I was enraged and couldn’t respond. Resolve the situation? If he'd been some random I met at a bar or a Tinder date and acted the way rapey date guy acted, she'd never recommended resolution. She wanted to resolve things because she was sleeping with him. Denying that was insulting to my intelligence.

I was willing to forgive her if she was willing to fix what she’d broke and rebuild our trust. Sadly, she ghosted me. That’s right, she never contacted me again, except for a happy birthday text a year later. She hurt me, betrayed my trust, and disappeared from my life. It's the most difficult breakup I’ve endured. I struggled for a long time, wondering why our friendship meant so little to her. One thing I know for sure; I will never tolerate that type of treatment again for someone else's sake. As women, we tolerate uncomfortable situations because we don't want to make others uncomfortable. We need to STOP this behaviour.  

I was finally able to let go but it took time and acceptance. I reminded myself it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault what he did to me. It wasn’t my fault what she did to me. I let go of my need for justice. I don’t know what she says about our friendship ending. She could lie; bend the truth in her direction. Play the victim. That used to bother me, but I know what happened and that’s enough for me. My values are obvious to anyone who knows me. Eventually, I stopped waiting for her. By reminding myself that I would never do to her what she did to me, I was able to focus on the values I have and not the values she lacks.

HER Veracity