Yesterday marked the first official day of football for my son. Everyday from 6:30-8:30pm these kids are out there sweating and hurting. I was told at the last minute, that my son, because of his weight he’ll have to play with a larger weight class that is mainly 11-12 year old boys. Of course I was nervous when I heard that because although he may look the age of an 11/12 yr old, he’s still only 9 years old. In any event, he toughed it out on his first day and the older kids helped him along.
As I’m sitting there trying not to focus on the swarms of mosquitoes that were gnawing at my skin, I felt someone staring at me. Out the corner of my eye, I saw one of the other parents walking towards me. I tried to pretend like I was busy working on something with my laptop, but of course he sat down next to me anyways. He taps me on the shoulder and said he thought my matching laptop and cell phone were ‘cute’ (they’re both CRIMSON). I laughed a little because if he walked all the way over here, I thought he’d have a better pick up line.
THEN IT HIT ME.
The most obnoxious smell, I’ve ever smelled in my whole entire life.
His PUNGENT THROAT SMOKE, just set my NOSTRICITIES on FIRE!
I tried not to gag or dry heave, but I felt it coming on.
He kept on talking and talking and talking and talking. Every sentence was hazardous to my health. I couldn’t believe that this grown ass man was walking around with a mouth that was emitting toxic fumes. I didn’t want to be rude, so I kept the conversation going, all along I was thinking to myself, “Damn, I must have a piece of big red somewhere in my purse”.
Saved by the bell.
My cell phone starts to ring. So I opened my purse to search for it. As I’m looking for my phone, I found my pack of big red! I felt as though I struck gold! I didn’t bother to answer the call, but I did pull out a stick of gum for myself first (you can’t just offer without taking one first), then offered him one.
He shook his head and said, “No thanks”.
What the hell do you mean, “No Thanks, negro??” Is what I had to stop myself from asking. Your breath is on fire, and I’m trying to be polite and not tell you that, so I offer you a stick of gum, and you say NO THANKS?
At that point, I was DOA (dead on arrival). His mouth smelled like he had a midget with shit on his shoes dancing around in his mouth!
I refused to continue the conversation. I packed my belongings and told him that it was nice speaking to him, but I wanted to go and sit in my car, so that I could put on the AC (and get some fresher air).
We shook hands and I went on my merry way.
As I sat in my car, I could still smell his pungent throat smoke. So I put the AC on blast and sprayed some perfume, just to clear my nostricities.