‘Big Brother’ Alum Michael Beveridge’s Worst Date Makes Yours Seem Tolerable

Look, we’ve all got our share of absolutely god-awful dates under our belts. I once went out to dinner with a guy who poured his red wine all over a dish of creamy pasta with the assertion that, “it all mixes together in your stomach anyway”. People are bizarre.

It’s truly a hellscape out there, pals. Dating can be a bloody nightmare. But if it’s any consolation at all, you (beautiful, love-deserving being that you are) did not live through the utter calamity that was Big Brother alumni Michael Beveridge‘s date last year – truly one of the worst disaster dates we’ve heard in a long while.

He dropped in to the PEDESTRIAN.TV dating podcast, Waiting For A D8, to regale us with the story (along with a bunch of other interesting stories from people who’ve dated at warp speed – going from meeting to marriage in no time flat).

Burden your ears with his sordid tale, and feel the pressure lift of your shoulders as you realise that the butthead who showed up fifteen minutes late last week probs isn’t so bad after all. Give the podcast a listen below to hear it direct from the man himself.

For real, his dodgy date might actually be one of the most awful human beings to be with, ever.

Essentially, Michael was havin’ a good old swipe on Halloween, when he came across a young lass who was keen for dinner – except that she lived about 20kms away and would’ve taken over an hour to get to him. Not ideal.

“I was working at the time,” he said. “I had some coin in me pocket and I thought: little lady, I’m gonna get you an Uber. Mostly because like, everything shuts in Brisbane by 8.30pm.”

So they meet up at a cute lil’ restaurant in Brissy and things seem to be pretty damn good at the beginning. Don’t they always?

He continued to outline the “We’re eating, we’re talking. We’re doing that really casual light thigh touch – not hand to thigh, but thigh to thigh. Just a little bit, and then you pull away. It’s almost like you’re fly fishing, but for love.”

So it all seems hunky-dory, and she agrees to go out for a cheeky beverage with Beveridge. As you would! They get to the bar, have drinks, play pool.

“Smooches are happening. Smoochy-smoochy. I can smell the brass of that nose ring. Smells like success,” he said.

Buuuut here’s where it all takes somewhat of a nosedive pretty rapidly. You knew it was coming, folks. The inevitable turning point of the evening.

They wound up at Ric’s.

She bails for a moment because she’s been spotted and Michael is cool with that – “It’s okay, my queen, we’ve got a bond that cannot be broken. You just go say g’day to your friends.”

And then ten minutes passes. Fifteen. Before long, the place closes.

Everyone gets kicked out of the bar and he’s chatting to some randos, then he spots her.

Macking on with some dude with a hair fade.

Here’s the thing though. She’d left all her shit with Michael. Bag, wallet, weed, jacket. He’s LADEN with her belongings. He tries to contact her – she makes an excuse. “Uhh, the police arrested me,” she says.

I went back to my hotel that I booked for our night of carnal lovemaking – I didn’t wanna have sex at my friend’s place, which is fair, so I’d booked the hotel,” he explained. “I went back there, really just bummed.

Then 4am rolls its depressingly late chime around. He cops a message from the girl asking where he is.

She told me where she was, she was too drunk to know what was going on. I was like, I felt really bad, like I didn’t want her to die on the streets of Brisbane.”

He goes to her, she’s not fucking there. Of course. He goes back to the hotel, calls her, hears some bloke in the background telling her to hang up on him – they’re clearly getting busy. The night is wild and heart-breaking, friends.

I went to bed, I never heard from her again,” he said. “Then two days later, her mum drove around to my friend’s house to pick up her handbag and her jacket… You ever been to Cold Rock Ice Creamery? This was Cold Rock Ice Mummery.”

So naturally they stole her weed and shaved into her bag. The precise nature of the shavings? Well, I’m sure you can figure that one out.

But seriously folks. The next time you have a shitty date with some asshole who doesn’t seem keen, or someone who just isn’t really on the same plane of existence as you, maybe don’t feel quite so bad.

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