Smell You Later Genius!

I was set up to see a play with a budding new author by some well-meaning friends. This is because I have a degree in English and my friends thank that I have trouble finding a man that I think is smart enough for me.

I had heard a lot about this guy be — how smart he was, how good looking, how he had two Ph.D.s, one in English and one in Math. He also has a column in a local paper where he writes about all the trivia in life – mostly observational humor. His biggest claim to fame is supposed to being published on the Alternet but I couldn’t find his byline there.

I also heard about how he won last year’s Marathon run for breast cancer, how he designed an award winning web site, how he owned two

Homes (one each cottage) and a cottage, and how even found time in his busy schedule to read for the blind.

Well, after hearing his sexy, well-spoken voice on the phone I agreed to meet him at the lobby of the theatre. When I first saw him I could not believe my good fortune – he was tall, blonde and handsome. He also had a body to die for. He also had this whole “charisma” thing going – like one of those vampire cowboy types. He was dressed casually but expensively and loved the fact that he was not slathered with tattoos like so many of the guys I meet here in Florida.

However, once we were seated together in the theater, I noticed this incredible body odor coming from him. Seriously he smelled worse than a skunk. And that was just his body odor. When he opened his mouth to speak, the stench was even worse. I kept thinking, “What could be caught in anyone’s teeth that could possibly smell like that?”

The stench was so unbelievable that I took out my pocket-handkerchief and kept holding it to my nose, just to breathe. I couldn’t even concentrate on what was being said in the play as his fumes were almost like tear gas. To make things worse he kept leaning over to say things to me, like witty guys do. I kept pretending to blow my nose as if I had allergies so I wouldn’t accidentally inhale his breath. I it was toxic.

Afterwards he suggested that we go out for coffee, but I insisted we sit on a patio so I could at least get a bit of air. He drove me home, and I was thinking, “this is a shame, I should like him, this is going to be a brilliant famous man. What’s a little body odor?”

However he leaned over to try and kiss me I just couldn’t take it. He pursed his lips and I just left him there with closed eyes and pursed lips, looking like a goldfish while I ran in my house and locked the door. Of course, he never called me again, which was a big relief!

 

Thanks for the Time of My Life!

By now I should have learned not to trust my gut instincts when it comes to “love at first sight”. However I will never learn as obviously my judgment is way completely distorted by hormones. Oops, I did it again– I chose absolutely the wrong guy to become smitten with–

Our story starts about a month ago when I met this guy in a coffee shop. He was really, and seemed smart as a whip. After a few weeks we sort of fell into a routine where I would stop by at a certain time, to see if he was there …and he always would be. He would be sitting there, giving me the sweetest looks as he looked up from his notebook where he was always furiously writing. “Ah” I thought, “He’s deep! He’s another writer!”

After several more “accidental on purpose” meetings in the coffee shop he finally asked me out on what I thought was going to be a date. He told me he was going to take me some place really really special and that it was going to blow my mind. He guaranteed me that my life would be completely changed after this date.

He also told me how special I was because he found it hard to “trust” and that he was going to take me to a place where he had never taken a girl before.

So I got all dressed up, thinking we were going to some special romantic spot where he would confess his devotion to me somehow or at least say, “Hey do you want to go steady.”

He picks me up and the next thing I know we are driving into the parking lot a church and I’m thinking “well, maybe he’s really into architecture.” Next thing after that I know we are in a room filled with chairs and my date is sitting in a circle with the rest of them with a big smile on his face saying, “My name is Steven and I am an alcoholic.”

When it came my turn to speak, and I dared to say that I wasn’t an alcoholic, they all frowned and looked at me strangely. One of them even asked me if I was in denial.

During the meeting I at the very least got to find out what Steven was writing in that little book all those days in the coffee shop and it turned out to be a long “Fifth Step” where the alcoholic is supposed to take a personal inventory. In there was a litany of crimes that he voiced out loud including not paying his child support (surprise!) to his wife (surprise!), doing crack cocaine (surprise!) and driving drunk and hitting an old man (surprise!). So it seems that glow I saw on his face and then kind of fell in love with was not the glow of writer inspiration but rather some kind of sweaty guilt.

After the A.A. meeting, Steven invited me along with the rest to that same old coffee shop. I told him to “get with the program” and walked home alone.