I got pissed off at work so I took a bunch of Oxy Contin and drank a fifth of vodka and passed out at my desk.

I had recently returned from a trip to London and I was telling her about it and about my plans to move there, to which she responded: ‘Do you speak any other languages? You know the type -- jumps around from topic to topic with little to no segue.

So I answered her question, then followed it up with ‘Why do you ask? "Unfortunately, there’s not a gentle way to say ‘Ok, this date needs to end because you’re far too dumb to allow this to go on any further.’ After a painful amount of time, I finally managed to convince her that the date needed to end, claiming that I was tired and had work the next day.” "'Oh, those bruises are from the IVs!

I went for the most generic first date question: I asked him what he did for a living. "There was another long silence, and then he began his first tirade of the night: ’I don’t want to tell you too much. Why would I share personal information with someone I just met?! In an attempt to make things less awkward, I changed the subject, and thankfully, our conversation started to flow a bit better for a short while.

All smiles, I said, ’It’s a good thing I told you to be open at the beginning; we’ve had fun! outburst number two: "I was cowering, highly embarrassed because he was making such a scene in public.

I could tell he was annoyed that I wasn’t falling all over him after hearing his bragging.

"Visibly frustrated, he decided to inform me that his ex-girlfriend knew me, and that when she found out we were going on a date, she’d called me a whore.

One said, ‘That scumbag Chris somehow managed to get a pretty girl like that, and then leaves her standing there. He followed me to my car and got in, and despite my better judgement, I decided to just give him a ride home rather than stand there and make a scene.

Although it was less than a mile to his apartment, I had to pull over twice to let him puke.

After chatting for a couple of weeks, we decided to meet up at a bar.

Everything was going really well, until he got a few drinks in him and he began telling me obviously fake or exaggerated stories about how wealthy and successful he is, which was a huge turnoff.

Dating apps have given us unprecedented access to every nut job, borderline sociopath, and bunny boiler in Chicago, and having a nightmarish experience has become some sort of twisted rite of passage. We asked a handful of Chicagoans to share their worst online dating stories, and we were not disappointed.