Here's a slight variation on the "Awkward Alan" tale. Let's call this one...
"The Flosser"
Eww.... even his pseudonym is gross. The Flosser was cute - don't get me wrong - and we seemed to have a lot to talk about. And then somewhere along the line, things went horribly wrong. I'm all about random topics, but all of the sudden our somewhat decent conversation had hit a new level... dental hygiene. How we even got started on the subject is beyond me. (Anyone who knows me, would know that 'good teeth' is pretty much tops on my list of requirements in guys I date - but talking about it, not so much). Well, in this conversation, I learned there is a fine line between good hygiene and OCD and TMI.
Flosser tells me he flosses - get this - FIVE times a day. Five times a day is too much - I don't care how much corn you eat. And the details on WHY one would floss five times a day is waaaaaay too much information to share.... with anyone, especially someone you're probably hoping to kiss later. Not only that, but you probably shouldn't throw out that little nugget of trivia while said future-conquest-hopeful is trying to enjoy her never-ending pasta bowl. Spaghetti... floss... can I vomit now?
Now I realize, by this point in my story, you are probably thinking "she's just way too picky" but think about it... a mid-dinner, detailed account of how/why someone flosses FIVE times a day. Maybe it's not even the amount. Maybe it's just the talking about flossing that made me want to grab a container of Glide and try to hang myself with the world's smallest noose.
So, dinner ends, we get in his car and the "so whaddya wanna do now?" question is raised. I pull the "Well... I have to get up early.... (yawn)" line. Classic. Now we've previously established that while this line sounds like an obvious "I do not wish to continue this date any longer" retort - apparently, to some guys, it's the green light for a 'now or never' initiative!?!?
And he leans in for the kill. And by kill, I mean I didn't even have time to unbuckle my seatbelt! Or jingle my keys! I was trapped! And Flosser was on top of me - attempting to give me a private oral exam of his own. I was thoroughly disgusted and managed to end that kiss (if that's what you want to call it) as abruptly as it began... Thank god.
Fast-forward to the next day... I get the "when can I see you again?" call (which probably would've been an in person thing the night before had I stuck around - but I got the hell out of Dodge). I'm not a mean girl, so I tried to let him down gently with the good ol' "I just didn't feel a connection" line. I know... it's cliche. But it works. Sometimes.
This was not one of those times, because he replied, "I don't know how you can say that? What about our kiss?!?!"
*How I replied in my head: "Umm.... generally speaking, kissing is team sport. I'm pretty sure that thing last night was a solo venture. And really we should just refer to it as your kiss. There was a reason it was one-sided."
How I actually replied: "Yeah... no. Sorry... Good luck with everything!" Click.
Oh man... if talking about flossing wasn't bad enough... trying to give me a first-hand look/taste (eww/shudder) at the product of 5xDaily Flossing is officially the ultimate deal-breaker.
So I hung up the phone... and sat home... alone... again.
...and instantly felt the need to floss.
Photo Credit: D Sharon Pruitt
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