5 Easy Steps for the Worst Date in San Francisco

One date. One city. So many ways to make it go wrong. You’ve heard what a racket dating in San Francisco can be (at least for the heterosexuals). But what happens when someone you aren’t interested in is interested in you? Say a one-time Hinge or Tinder date, an individual you enjoyed but didn’t quite spark with, isn’t taking the hint. You tried ghosting them, unmatching with them, everything but rejecting them outright. That’s not your vibe. You are a delicate West Coast flower who wilts at the thought of confrontation. Besides, you don’t want to hurt their feelings! Here is how some San Francisco hijinks can help ensure you never see that person again.  

If you’re like me, you’ve probably been disappointing people your whole life. This time, do it on purpose.

Fraudulent rainchecks are for amateurs. You want to shake them off. Not prolong the inevitable. If you’d like the weather to sabotage your date, take advantage of the city’s microclimates. Lose them in the fog of the Outer Sunset. Drown out small talk on a physically demanding Downtown walk up steep and windy Taylor Street. Make an Irish goodbye and disappear into the crowd that gathers at Dolores Park on sunny days. You won’t have to say “I’m uncomfortable around you” if your surroundings are practically screaming it. 

This can be tough because we live in California. Can’t count on a lucky storm to crash your date. Besides, rain can inspire romance, and we don’t want that. A heat wave on the other hand would thoroughly kill the vibe. Heat makes everyone cranky, snappy, utterly unappealing. It’s too hot to fuck even if you wanted to. So pick a miserable, breezeless evening for your phony date. Pretend you aren’t available any other time. Peak despair is during the middle of fire season, when the air is dry and smoke hangs over the city. 

Given they don’t cancel, make the apocalyptic vibes and smoky odor in the air work for you. If it’s escapism they want, promise it wordlessly. Act like you’re seeking the same. Ignore this burning world. Steal away from climatological dread to a bar that is still open, and drink. Once it appears their mind is finally off our dying planet, ask if they’re ready for an earthquake. 

If they offer to drive, say you'll give them a ride, then show up in a cab. It’s funny if you don’t own a car and hilarious if you do, especially if they know you do. Bonus points if the driver is blasting religious music or talk radio. You can always make it worse. Pick them up in a Waymo during rush hour. Perhaps the software will panic and the vehicle will stall in traffic. With your companion trapped in a bubble, now's the perfect time to start farting. Release something so rank, so vile that your faux date would rather tongue-kiss a real, live cab driver. 

Are they a suburban softy? Make them ride BART or Muni with you. Insist on it. Say that Lyft and Uber violate your ethics. Next, in the loudest part of the Transbay Tube, quietly disclose a fact from your traumatic past. Don’t follow up. Transfer to a Muni bus instead. Have a least-favorite route, maybe the 14-Mission or 19-Polk? Your dislikes may redeem themselves in how they drive off your date. Getting crack smoke blown in your faces is the right moment to ask if they have siblings.

Remember that bar in the Marina your friends told you was underwhelming, overpriced, and full of AI tech bros? That’s the one. Or maybe a super-pretentious gastropub in the Mission where a plate of smears and foams costs $150. In any case, really hype up how cool your “favorite spot” is. Real “locals only” shit. The greater their expectations, the deeper that letdown feeling they’ll forever associate with your face.

Pick someplace that makes you feel trapped in some aging hipster’s idea of cool. Think Hayes Valley, or Valencia Street. Promising signs: metal stools, Edison bulbs, bare brick or concrete walls, terrible acoustics, and no bartender. These institutions are a dying breed since those same hipsters started having kids, selling their bars to condo developers, and moving to Concord. But you’re sure to give your fake date the “ick” if you make them think this is your hangout. 

Or, level up by having a meal before you meet. Once they get hungry, explain that you don’t eat, but you’ll watch. Ask to record it. Be the red flag you wish to see in the world. 

If you are young, single, and living/working in San Francisco, you likely have roommates. They might not seem particularly useful to you now, especially in the context of bringing home a hookup. In this case however, they’re your best asset. No one likes roommates, even the cringey individual you’re trying to run off. So ask them to help you. Is one of your roommates theatrically inclined? They’ll revel in the role of someone needy, invasive, crazy, or all three. As a former theater kid, I’d be so down. I’d knock every three minutes bedeviled with worries only you can assuage.

If shitty weather, hostile transit, insufferable bars and eateries, and an onslaught of bothersome roommates haven’t driven them off, it might be wise to drop the truth bomb. “Look, I gave this a shot, but I really don’t think we’d work out.” Let them down easy. Then block them on everything. 

If all else fails, it’s time to go nuclear. Inform them that this entire evening has been a pretext for your startup pitch. You’re actually a super-genius software engineer whose unbeatable app will somehow put Grindr and Meals on Wheels out of business. But, since your assets aren’t exactly liquid at the moment, you only need a cool $500 million to get things moving. “What do you say, partner? We’ll recruit a mobile army of twinks and teach them CPR.” 

And if, after everything, they’re still on board, marry them.