It's a toss-up.

Worst first date: I knew within 2 seconds of meeting the guy that I would never let him touch me. It looked like he had never brushed his teeth in his entire life. He had multiple missing and rotten teeth, and so much tartar that his two top front teeth were a unitooth. Being a Reddit-standard socially inept lizard person, I couldn't think of an excuse to bail out. I sat there and stared at those teeth through an appetizer and two drinks, which took about an hour. I have no memory of what we discussed. As soon as it was plausible for me to leave, I bailed the fuck out of there and ghosted him. Shitty move, but I'm not equipped to explain to a 30-something with children that he needs to brush his fucking teeth. Bonus: due to the aforementioned children, he couldn't bring me back to his place, but his mom didn't know that he still had a key to her house, so we could go there!

Worst followup date: this was my fourth date with this guy. He had given his location as [medium-sized city where I lived and he worked] but he lied - he actually lived an hour away. I had been a bad first date, so I was cutting this guy a lot of slack. After a lackluster third date, he invited me to his place for dinner. When the day came, it happened to be the first major snowfall of the year. I told him that if I drove down there, I was definitely staying the night. He told me he was hung over, but thought he would be okay. It took me two hours to get there. It turned out that he'd been smoking weed all day to combat his hangover. He still tried to insist on driving to go get groceries for dinner, and kept bragging up what a good driver he was. After I drove us to the grocery store, he made me buy my own meat and booze. He cooked dinner while I failed at making conversation and desperately swilled beer in hopes I could drown out the awkwardness. Oh, but he made me cook my own meat because he was "too busy." He yelled at me for using the wrong butter - apparently it was the pat he'd pre-measured for his food. He also yelled at me for making a joke he didn't appreciate. After dinner, we sat in separate armchairs to watch the second season of a show I'd never seen, and he talked up how healthy his new diet was. He was still smoking weed, which led to the munchies, so he left to go get himself a king-size Butterfinger from the apartment vending machine. Twice. I sat there in my itchy matching underwear, slowly getting surlier. He went to bed at 10pm, promising me a good breakfast and that he would be "more himself" the next day. I sat there for a while and realized that despite the shitty roads and dangerous cold outside, I couldn't stomach the thought of waking up in this fucko's apartment. I waited a while to ensure I was snober, crept out of his apartment, piled into my shitty car, and drove home. It was after midnight by then, and quite cold. I was in genuine danger of freezing to death if my car went into the ditch. It was worth it to get the fuck out of that apartment. He never tried to contact me again.