In the action-comedy 'Date Night,' Steve Carell and Tina Fey play Phil and Claire Foster, a couple who spices up their marriage by going on a date each week. When a case of mistaken identity leads to Carell and Fey on the run from gangsters, the duo engage in an increasingly outlandish series of events that involve guns, car chases and strip clubs.

Sound unrealistic? Maybe a tad. But we all know bad date nights are a very real threat. To prove it, we asked our own staff to share their worst dates, be it their fault or someone else's. And if these aren't bad enough for you, feel free to share your own story in the comments section. In the action-comedy 'Date Night,' Steve Carell and Tina Fey play Phil and Claire Foster, a couple who spices up their marriage by going on a date each week. When a case of mistaken identity leads to Carell and Fey on the run from gangsters, the duo engage in an increasingly outlandish series of events that involve guns, car chases and strip clubs.

Sound unrealistic? Maybe a tad. But we all know bad date nights are a very real threat. To prove it, we asked our own staff to share their worst dates, be it their fault or someone else's. And if these aren't bad enough for you, feel free to share your own story in the comments section.

Stumbling through a bar one night, a girl approached me and said, "Hey, don't I always see you at concerts?" After some chit-chat, we arranged to meet for drinks the following weekend. The night of the date, with time to kill on a hot summer evening, my friends and I went to see a movie. We quickly realized that the theater's air conditioner was broken but soldiered on and finished the film. Meeting my date later that night, we got along fine--no 'Pulp Fiction'-worthy uncomfortable silences--and I headed home later that evening. A few days later, I found her blog, which described our date with all the detail one usually reserves for therapists and priests. While admitting she had a good time, she was distraught at what the results of the summer weather had done on her olfactory senses. In other words, I stunk. I stopped waiting for that call back. - Jason Newman, Contributing Writer

I'd have to say the time in college I finally mustered up the courage to ask out this girl who I was really, really into, but wasn't sure if I stood a chance with her. I had scored some VIP tickets to a Dave Chappelle stand-up show, so figured it was the perfect draw. So we're sitting in the second row, and during Chappelle's set, her cell phone rings. She scrambles to find it, as people around us get annoyed -- and then answers it, and starts talking loudly. Thankfully, somehow, Chappelle didn't notice -- that was a realm of humiliation I'd never want to enter -- but everyone else around us did, including a beast of a man behind us, who found it the perfect opportunity to threaten our lives. I had to defend her at the time, but I don't blame him. It was an instant turn-off. - Kevin Polowy, Senior Movies Editor

In college, I got set up on a blind date with a super-nice guy. Super-nice? Clearly not my type. And, being a mature college student (read: not mature at all), I was, in retrospect, a total beyotch: crossing my arms, not talking much, keeping my distance, etc., all because I didn't want to give him the wrong impression. Afterward, the friend who'd set us up reported that he'd been miserable, and that he told her, "Honestly, it was the worst date I've ever had."

I thought little of this until a couple years later, when I related the story to some friends and got much more of a reaction than I expected. "Really?!" one guy said, practically leaping up in amazement. "You were someone's worst date?" And then I realized what it meant. To this day, I wonder if I'm the story my hapless, super-nice former blind date tells when asked this very question. And I deserve it. - Patricia Chui, Senior Editor, Moviefone/AOL TV

In 2001, after weeks and weeks of trying to land a date with a girl I knew through work, she finally agreed/caved/surrendered. Fantastic news, I thought, and per her suggestion, dinner and a trip to the movies would be our first adventure. Dinner was a breeze and we were both having a great time, but that's about as far as things got. A dealbreaker was about to happen, and neither of us saw it coming. The epicenter of our date disaster was about to rear its vicious head: We saw 'Vanilla Sky.' Puzzled, repulsed and utterly dazed at how bad the movie was, I was never able to disassociate my date from her ever again. Any time I thought about her over the next few days, the awfulness of 'Vanilla Sky' replayed in my head. My intererest in her waned to the point of being nonexistent, and that was pretty much it. So, Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz, you may have ruined a potentially glorious relationship, but I must thank you, because it allowed me to start dating someone else ... Who's now my wife. - Mike Hess, Managing Editor

Watch Steve Carell describe his worst date. (Hint: it involves a stabbing flautist.)



It was my second date with a lovely young French woman. Our first date -- a get together over coffee -- went really well, I even got a kiss at the end of the night. I was very nervous trying to come up with the perfect place to take her, when my friend offered the simple advice of "take her to somewhere you love." I immediately knew where to go: a small bar/restaurant in Koreatown. It had just enough chatter, just enough lighting, and plenty of style. And the best part was, I knew it like the back of my hand, so the nervousness disappeared. I could just be myself, and the date started to go really well. I ordered a seafood dish that I always loved and we continued our great conversation. A few minutes later, our food arrived and my date started laughing. It was then that she told me -- she was allergic to seafood. All of it. She spent the rest of the date making sure I kept a safe distance between us, so as to not endanger her health. "You can forget about kissing me at the end of the night," she said. My kiss was literally poisonous to her. - Eric Larnick, Editorial Assistant

When I was 15, I went on my first date ever with a kid who was 16 and had a car. This was a big deal because our parents didn't have to drive us anywhere so it felt real and grown-up. I was so nervous before the date that I didn't eat anything all day. On the date, we went down to the beach (I grew up in Florida) and got pizza at a cheap beach pizza stand. I guess my stomach was in too much of a knot to stand eating something so greasy and gross. On the ride back to my house, I started feeling queasy. I held on as long as I could but when he pulled into my driveway, I couldn't take it any longer. I opened the passenger side door and just threw up pizza bits all over my driveway. He was as nice about it as he could possibly be but I obviously did not get a kiss goodnight. - Gabrielle Dunn, Editorial Assistant

Second date. Eric calls and says he's running late. I'm cool with that. More time to primp. He shows up via cab (a bit out of the ordinary in LA). I wonder and smile as I figure out his animated, happy demeanor equals completely wasted! I'm hungry so why not? I drive, he buys -- he'll sober up with a good meal...and margaritas plus tequila? Oh boy. After his post dinner acrobatics on the grassy knoll outside the restaurant, I stuff him in a cab and send him home. He's married now. - Elna Hubbell, Moviefone/ AOL TV Partner Relations

In 2003, this guy asked me out on a date. A few years older than me, I was pretty excited about the prospect. He wanted to go out the night of the ALCS game 7 -- the thrilling Boston versus New York series. As a baseball lover, I suggested we watch the game and since I lived in NYC, I figured we'd go to one of the million bars in Manhattan to grab drinks and food. I was wrong. We meet near his office and take the ferry into New Jersey near his Jersey City home. In the middle of a pizza dinner at a strip mall, he helpfully points out that the girl behind me wearing low rise jeans has a huge zit on her butt. At this point, I just wanted to go home and not miss the first pitch. But, I didn't know how to get there from wherever in the Garden State I was. I had no choice but to go back to his apartment--let me remind you, this was a first date--and watch the game. Apparently the Jessica Andrews country song 'You Go First' was his go-to "try and get her in the bedroom" tune, but luckily I was able to escape that fate. Finally, after what felt like a painfully long time, Aaron Boone hit a home run to win the game for the Yankees. He asked if I wanted to get a drink, but I said that I better be heading back. He thoughtfully drove me home. Later, he told me that I just wasn't the right fit for him. It didn't bother me at all. – Denise Warner, PopEater Editor

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