Depending on your perspective (i.e. whether you're single or in a relationship), Valentine's Day is either a nice opportunity for a romantic date or a day for miserly grumbling about how you're going to die alone.
Of course, if it's the latter, one way to fix this is to try and arrange a Valentine's date by furiously swiping right on Tinder in every spare moment between now and Wednesday. Be careful what you wish for though, as the course of true love never does run smooth and your Valentine's "dinner and a movie" could quickly turn into a nightmare date which will haunt you for the rest of your life.
Sound like we're laying it on a bit thick? Here are some of the worst and most embarrassing dating stories from the TopUniversities team.
Embarrassed Emily
During my first year of uni, right before the start of the second semester, I went on a night out with a group of friends.
There was a cute older-ish guy at the bar who I started chatting to, one thing led to another, and we went back to his.
His flat was amazing, on top floor in the centre of the city, overlooking the river - and he paid for everything all night. I couldn't stop bragging about it afterwards.
The next week, our electives started and I walked into the first tutorial and stopped dead in my tracks. I'd shagged the professor.
Leftist Lisa
I once went on a date with a UKIP voter. I met him on a dating app - he was a cameraman for Masterchef, had good hair, was 23 - nothing that would signal sinister beliefs at first glance. The date was just before the general election in 2015, when UKIP still had some prospects of winning seats, and I mentioned on our second date that I found the “normalisation of UKIP” with younger voters really frightening.
In response, he blurted out that thousands of immigrants were allowed into the UK unchecked, and that some had histories of sex abuse like "raping children" and the UK government should make sure to "filter out the sex offenders".
So yeah, he was a UKIP voter and a racist. One lesson learnt from that, have a more rigorous pre-date vetting system in place.
Forgetful Francesca
One night at the pub, I was chatting to this cute guy, who was doing his PhD in the ancient history of Birmingham and I drunkenly gave him my number. A few days passed and he texted me, asking to go out on a date.
We decided to meet at the Royal Festival Hall in London. I thought he’d stood me up as I was walking around for ages, trying to spot him in the crowd by the entrance. Eventually, I got a phone call from him, but still couldn’t see him.
It turns out, I gave my number to another guy that night as well. I didn’t recognise him. At all. We went on a date that lasted 30 minutes until I had to pretend my flat had a leak to get out of it.
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