I’ve dated a lot of douchebags.

Let’s be honest, we have all dated a lot of douchebags, but this one—this one I’m about to tell you about—is one of my more loathsome stories.

I stumbled across the dating profile of my soon-to-be new pal online. He was cute, witty, and we had a lot in common. I noticed on his profile that he was from the States and in our messages back and forth he explained he was in town working on a project for 2 months. I was bummed, but my plan has always been to move there one day, so I thought, “why not?” A few of my friends told me to be cautious – “he’s here for 2 months and online dating?” But I brushed it off because it was ONE date and there’s no way I would be getting too invested in it.

…except our first date was amazing. He made me laugh to the point of tears. When he said goodbye he didn’t kiss me, and I loved that. He gave me something to look forward to.

We quickly made plans to hang out again. He invited me via text message to his temporary apartment in the heart of the city. My initial feeling was to pick somewhere more public, but again I consulted my friends in case I was just being a prude. “Just go!” they said. “It’s not like you HAVE to have sex with this guy!” They were right. Only I am in charge of my destiny. Like Beyonce. Or Frodo or whatever.x

Cut to: his place. It’s going well. I got up to use his washroom (and have a quick hair check in the mirror). I closed the door behind me and looked at my reflection as if to say, “you got this, girl.” I wondered how we would both fit on his couch. It was kind of small, but maybe I could spoon HIM. I started to unzip, still daydreaming about the hot make out we were probably going to have, and that’s when I saw it.

There, on top of his bathroom garbage, laid a very fresh, very real, USED condom.

Like, this thing was SUBWAY SANDWICH fresh. Had we had sex and had I forgotten about it? That’s how fresh it was. It wasn’t even sneaking out from under the other garbage either. It was strewn, glistening, right across the top.

My heart sunk. Of course there was a used condom in his garbage. Of course there was. Fuck. I stared at it as I peed beside it. I kept whispering “fuuuuuuuuuccckkk” to it. It stared back at me, like a guilty dog that had been caught eating grass.

I went back out to the living room and sat on the couch, a chair away from him. I wasn’t even wondering if he was going to come sit next to me, I was more wondering if he was going to find that thing he hadn’t cleaned up from the night before. Or this morning… or… oh god, just before I came over?

I kept arguing in my mind. On one hand, it’s not like we were TOGETHER. This was our second date! On the other hand, clean the fuck up after yourself. It’s GROSS. He finally came and sat beside me and almost immediately went in for a kiss. I honestly was too surprised to even think about it, so I just let it happen. The whole time he kissed me I was thinking, “Should this be happening?” A few moments later (okay, several minutes later) he said, “Maybe we should move this to the bedroom.” I laughed out loud and said, “Oh. Ha ha no. I can’t have sex with you tonight.”

“No, we don’t have to have sex, I just really like kissing you.” (Cue jerk off motion, sure you do.) “No, I can’t have sex with you because you just have like… A suuuuuper fresh condom in your garbage. And like, cool man! You have sex! Me too!” (I think at this point I playfully punched him in the shoulder?) “But… it’s just… too fresh.” I sat there, breathless.

A moment of silence passed.

“I feel like a dick.” No apology. No trying to cover it up. No blaming it on a “posh wank.” It was awkward, guys. Real awkward. So I did what any other self-respecting human being would do….

I made out with him again.

I know. I know! You guys are like “WHY ON EARTH?” But I literally cannot stand awkward situations and confrontations and DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. Kissing solved the silence problem and the I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-my-face problem. Still, it was like giving a dog a treat after it just took a shit on your white sheets. I stopped the kissing a few minutes later and told him I had to go. He offered me a ride home but I politely declined.

I’ve wanted to write about this date for a while now. It happened a couple of years ago and I still am embarrassed by my actions. I felt a lot of shame telling even some of my best friends the story. I know that if it were to happen again today, I would’ve reacted very differently. For one, I obviously would not have kissed him again. Secondly, I probably would have left fairly immediately after finding the condom.

You don’t have to please someone just because you are uncomfortable or feeling weak or weird. You are allowed to say “no” and “I’m not cool with this.” And if you decide after seeing a used condom in someone’s garbage can that you still want to kiss them, then that’s okay too. It’s your decision. I still think about that night sometimes, not to relive the gross-itude or remind myself how much better my current relationship is (lots, it’s lots better) but as a fable of sorts. The Girl Who Cried Douche. Next time, I need to listen to myself.