To some, it might seem like a trite thing; a dirty habit we know isn’t good for anyone, but it’s so socially accepted, that it’s easily capable of being overlooked. And then there are people like me who have seen worst-case scenarios of what smoking can do to a person, and I’d rather not see any more of those scenarios occur to people I know, much less anyone I’d want to get involved with.
A funny thing happened to me at the store the other day. I went in to pick up a few little odds and ends, and things for firing up the grill and throwing down some good old-fashioned ‘Murican hamburgers. I’m in line at the register, and for whatever reason, the woman in front of me has managed to chase off the cashier, and we’re standing there silently, with me not really trying to veil my annoyance at her actions which has ceased all forward progress of the process of making transactions. But for all intents and purposes, my items were on the belt, but were far too numerous to re-basket and move to another, actually moving checkout line.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a petite girl enter the line I’m in, and put down a single item on the belt behind my items. I’m socially awkward enough around girls as it is, so I dare not look beyond the acknowledging-the-existence-of-another-human-being glance backward to see her. She’s kind of cute. A second later, what was likely her friends emerge, a pretty obvious couple, and rather . . . big folks.
In spite of my otherwise social shortcomings, I like to think I’m fairly astute in regards to my surroundings; there was plenty of garbled conversation, the couple friends sort of giggling, with the kind-of-cute girl repeatedly telling her friends to shut up, but in that teasing kind of way.
The big dude pipes up, and suddenly exclaims “I want what he’s having for dinner; some hamburgers,” referring to my pretty obvious items. This scenario is kind of coming together, and I’m fairly certain now that kind-of-cutie is notoriously single amongst her couple friends, and they’re teasingly spontaneously trying to wing for her, to me. I glance back and smile at the couple, while kind-of-cutie doesn’t look up.
Finally, the cashier returns, and for whatever reason, the woman who held up the line ends up walking away with no transaction completed. Finally, my items are finally processed and bagged. During this, I hear some mumbles amongst the couple, with kind-of-cutie telling them again to shut up. It’s at this time, big dude pipes up again, this time making a self-deprecating joke at their collective group how it takes three people to buy one item. I smirk at them again, again, kind-of-cutie isn’t looking back.
In the end, I left the store without a glance back, and in all likelihood never run into these people again, so any thoughts of what could’ve been are moot. But there was a reason for it, in fact two; and it makes me wonder if, in spite of the fact that I’m obviously no prize, if I need to relax my standards a bit or continue to stick to my guns. The first reason was the presence of the couple friend; as if I have no game to begin with, the last thing I want to do is run headfirst into the lion’s den of judge-y friends present on site. But the second reason, the main reason, was the fact that in those 4-5 minutes of being around kind-of-cutie, it smelled like I was around a fucking chimney.
I know that there are lots people, among them a few friends and acquaintances, that smoke. That’s fine. Far be it for me to tell other people what to do with their lives, so you’ll not often hear me suggesting to anyone that perhaps they should consider quitting. But personally, I’m not a fan of smoking, and I don’t always like being around those who choose to do such.
Kind-of-cutie smelling like a pack-a-day habit is a turn-off to me, but at the same time, as a guy who strikes out like Carlos Beltran in the dating department, it makes me wonder if I’m too inflexible for my own romantic pursuits. In a way, it’s kind of flattering to know that if at least for once, and for just a minute or two, I was seen as a goal instead of a creepo, but I simply couldn’t get around the unpleasant smell of smoke.
But hey, at least I get to make a reference to this:
WHOOOOAAAAA BUNDYYYY
