Wednesday, June 06, 2007

The truth stinks.

At Grandma Tina’s Italian-Vegetarian Restaurant (Panguitch, UT)



Her
: “Oh, look! They have Boca burgers here! And baked yams! I love those! I’m getting one, I just decided. Let’s order already. And this whole place smells like, what? What is it? Oh. Garlic. Stop it.”

Him: “What? I didn’t say a thing. I just smiled. Can’t I smile?”

Her: “I can’t help that I like garlic. I already told you that I cook with it all the time.”

Him: “The word cook being used loosely, of course. Some use it as a spice, whereas others—namely you—pop whole cloves like they’re oversized Tic Tacs.”

Her: “Hey. That’s not nice.”

Him: “Not nice, maybe, but true. How can you not cook those things?”

Her: “I told you. I like the flavor.”

Him: “Fair enough. You love the garlic. Love love loooove it. So … eat what you like. Don’t stop on my account. It’s a free country. Maybe they even have baked garlic here as an appetizer?”

Her: “But I’m not going to keep eating it if I smell like it all the time. Who wants to smell like garlic?”

Him: “I’m just telling you what it is I’m smelling. Me. Maybe I have an extra-sensitive sniffer. But when you got close to me earlier, I smelled garlic, plain and simple. There’s no real danger of me kissing you on your mouth, though, so it’s alright, right? Right. Whoa. Way too many rights.”

Her: “But I didn’t even eat garlic today. I had some fresh hummus last night, but that was hours and hours ago!”

Him: “You gotta sweat that stuff out, missy. And, if you haven’t run a marathon between then and now, chances are that your breath is going to come out garlicky. I mean, it comes out your pores, not just your mouth. Besides, I wouldn’t have said anything if it’d been just this once. I’ve smelled garlic on you before.”

Her (to friend): “Here. Smell my breath.”

The Friend: “Don’t ask me. I have allergies.”

Him: “I wouldn’t stress out about it. It’s not like you smell like garlic all the time.”

Her: “Oh, really? What else do I smell like?”

Him: “No.”

Her: “No?”

Him: “I’m not even going there.”

Her: “Why? It’s not like I’m going to freak out. I just want to know.”

Him: “Famous last words, but … okay, I’m only saying this because I know you won’t freak out. I wouldn’t tell you otherwise. You’re just not the type to go crazy …”

Her: “Right.”

Him: “… but your breath usually smells like hay.”

Her: “Hay?”

Him: “Yeah. But not the old, moldy hay. More like the green, fresh alfalfa stuff. You know what that smells like, right? I’ve thought that for a long time, actually. I mean, it’s something I picked up on early on.”

Her: “But, hay. Really?”

Him: “I think I just got used to it after a while. I assumed that, since you’re into that whole wheatgrass, raw foods way of living, you’re naturally going to end up smelling like some kind of organic splendor at some point, you know? And, again, I’ve smelled it on you more than once. Not that I ever thought you were chewing on it in your spare time. I’m definitely not calling you a cow, so don’t go reading into it.”

Her: “That’s … interesting. You know, some guys really like my smell. They’ve told me so.”

Him: “Were they farmers, by any chance?”

Her: “No! I don’t like farmers. My dad’s a farmer, but I’m not attracted to them. I never have been. And they didn’t say I smelled like hay, either. OR garlic. They just said, ‘Hey, I like your smell.’”

The Friend: “I feel like I’m on an episode of Seinfeld.”

Her: “I mean, my sister told me I smelled like garlic once a year ago, but she never brought it up again. And she’s the kind of person who would, too.”

Him: “Maybe she felt like she didn’t need to tell you more than once.”

Her: “No. No, I don't think so. I’m going to take a survey and see if people think I smell like hay. Or garlic.”

Him: “Great. I’d love to hear the outcome. But you can’t just walk up to somebody, breathe in their face and ask them what scent you are that day. You need to cuddle up to them, watch a movie and invade their breathing area. Whatever you smell like will totally just permeate their air. They’ll smell something, believe you me. No fair brushing your teeth beforehand, either.”

Her: “So I need to spend a couple hours with each person and then ask?”

Him: “Oh, they’ll say something without your even having to ask. Actually, what you SHOULD do is watch a movie, see what happens, chew on some garlic cloves or seaweed or whatever and THEN see what they say. If they don’t say anything in either instance, your survey is totally void. And they’ve likely lost all sense of smell.”

Her: “You’re weird.”

Him: “I totally, totally agree with that.”

7 comments:

Melanie said...

Haha.
What, was there a tape recorder at the table?!

f*bomb. said...

um...I think, about halfway into that conversation, my brain exploded.

Sarita said...

I once dated this guy who had no sense of smell. Perhaps they should hook up.

Linda said...

Is nothing sacred?

Dainon said...

In my world? Nope. It's all just what we in the biz like to call "material."

Ha.

Jessica said...

And it's good material...my boss and I just had some good laughs reading this. Props to the chick (Linda?) for being as cool and laid back as she is.

aisy said...

so many questions...

but it did remind me of the night i went to a movie with my friend and i used a little too much garlic in my meal prior. the a/c was out at the theatre and he turned to me, laughed and said "you stink." i still love him.