Dating Disaster: He Smelled Like Hot Garbage

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garbage dumpsters
He was cute, scruffy and just my type. Unfortunately, that dirty didn't wash off.

I like scruffy guys. You know the type. The semi-bearded guy who doesn't know the difference between a mani and a pedi. The sort of guy who can repair a car and kill bugs with his bare hands. The kind of guy who isn't afraid to get a little dirty. So when I had a vision during yoga class that I would meet a cute scruffy guy later that day, I thought for sure it was a blessing from the Universe when I met Josh that very evening.

I was quietly sitting at a local bar sipping on a hot toddy and typing away on an article I was working on, when I heard, "Have you tried the popcorn here?"

I turned to my right. In front of me was the very vision I had seen earlier in my mind; a tall, thin, bearded guy with a skull cap and a hoodie. I couldn't believe my powers of manifestation. Or maybe it was just my powers of intuition. As a cartoonist with vegetarian tendencies, he seemed right up my alley. After we spent several hours chatting, (and munching Old Bay-seasoned popcorn), I finally decided to call it a night. He offered to walk me home, carrying my yoga mat and shopping bag. When he asked if he could take me to an art exhibit over the weekend, I was swooning. Dating Disaster: A Guy, A Girl, Her Gas

Our first date was what many a first date is; sweet but nervous. After leaving the gallery, we had drinks and he walked me home, shyly telling me had a good time and would love to see me again. When it came time for our second date, I was excited. He seemed sweet, gentlemanly and relatively normal. So of course, I was stoked.

Until he let the bomb drop; the stink bomb.

When he picked me up in his truck for our second date, I almost threw up when I stepped in. The car smelled like the worst NYC taxi on the hottest day of summer mixed in with a tub of ripe onions. I was horrified. I knew we hadn't kissed on the first date and he did have several layers of winter clothing on, but I hardly suspected a stench worse than a steaming pile of garbage was lurking beneath. Granted it was his car I was smelling and not him, but his truck had clearly obtained the stench from him. I quickly rolled my window down in an attempt to alleviate the assault on my nostrils. Dating Disaster: His Name Wasn't Scott, Evidently

"Aren't you cold?" he asked, clearly perplexed as it was 35 degrees outside.

Next: The story continues...

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