A. Marie Silver

A. Marie Silver

Smelly Guy-Party Four A

>First and foremost I would like to apologize for the delay in my postings.  I’ve been out of town recently.

This final bit in my series of “How not to date a Death Investigator” definitely falls under the category of “I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.

Smelly Guy (yes there is a very good reason for this nickname-unfortunately) and I met online.  That fact alone should have been my first clue.  He also never posted his picture and when I asked him to send me one, would conveniently forget.  That should have been my second clue-although I pride myself on not being the kind of girl who would reject someone based on their looks.

As most patterns to online dating follow we started off with emails and then phone calls.  Wow!  The phone calls–Yeah that really should have been the third clue.  Apparently I’m clueless.  Oh well!  Live and learn-and then blog about it for everyone to see-and live and learn.

The first phone call was a basic phone call where we got to know each other.  I learned that Smelly Guy had a Bachelor’s Degree in Computer Science and that he worked for some company located down town in the business district.  Nothing suspicious there.

The second phone call, he apparently decided to step things up a few notches.

Smelly Guy:  “Did you get that YouTube Clip I sent you earlier?”

Me:  “Yeah.  I haven’t had time to look at it yet.”

Smelly Guy:  “Are we still on for tomorrow night?”

Me:  “Yep. Barnes and Noble at 8 pm.”

Smelly Guy:  “Well, if you have any problems downloading that video just let me know and when I come over tomorrow night I’ll pull it up for you.  It’s hilarious.”

Wait.  What?  What did he say?  He’s what? 

Me:  “Huh?”

Smelly Guy:  “What?”

Me:  “What about tomorrow night?”

Smelly Guy:  “Well you know…after the date….”

Me:  “There is no after the date.  After the date, you go to your home and I got to my home.”

Smelly Guy:  “Why can’t I come over?”

Me:  “I can’t let you into my apartment on the first date.”

Smelly Guy:  “Why not?”

Me:  “Because you’re a stranger.”


Smelly Guy:  “Oh come on.  I’m not going to do anything.”

Me:  “I appreciate that but there’s really no point in letting you into my apartment on the first date.”

Smelly Guy:  “Why not?”

Me:  “Because I’m not going to have sex with you.”

Smelly Guy:  “Says who?”

Me:  “Me.”

Smelly Guy:  “Listen.”

Seriously?  He’s not actually trying to reason with me is he?”

Smelly Guy:  “I’m going to come over after we meet up at Barnes and Noble and you’re gonna trust that I’m a nice guy who’s not going to hurt you.”

Spoken like a true serial rapist/killer.  Ted Bundy couldn’t have done better.

Me:  “Hmm.  Let me think about that for a minute…Um NO”

Smelly Guy:  “Well then, if you’re that concerned then just have one of your cop friends do a background check on me.”

One of my cop friends?  Is that like a challenge or something? 

Me:  “Sure.  I could do that.  But ya know…I guarantee that the shit you’ve been caught doing isn’t nearly as frightening as the shit that you haven’t been caught doing.”

Smelly Guy:  “Well then, I guess you’ll have to invite me over so I can prove to you that I’m harmless.”

Me:  “Or…I could tell my cop friends that I’m planning on inviting a guy over to my apartment whom I don’t know and whom I met on the internet.  I’m sure they would be more than happy to spare you a felony and murder me for you.”

Ooh.  Or a fate worse than death, they could taser me into unconsciousness and when I awake, I’m locked inside of my mother’s house in Ohio with an ankle-monitoring bracelet that emits electric shocks whenever I get within a certain range of the doors or windows.

Me:  “Listen, I’m sure you’re harmless but I have rules that I follow religiously whenever I date any guy and I’m not going to break them for you or for anyone else.”

Smelly Guy:  “And what are those rules?”

Fuck!  He called my bluff.  Think fast.  Think fast.  Rules.  What rules?  What’s a good rule?  Ah ha! Got it!

Me: “Well, for starters, the 30 day rule.”

Smelly Guy:  “The 30 day rule?”

Me:  “Yeah, I never let any guys into my apartment until we’ve dated for at least 30 days.”

Smelly Guy:  “So after 30 days I can come inside your apartment?”

Me:  “No.  I said a minimum of 30 days.  There’s no guarantee that after 30 days I’ll let you in either.”

Smelly Guy:  “Well how are we supposed to get to know each other?”

Me:  “The old-fashioned way.  We meet at very public places like movie theaters, restaurants, bookstores, bowling alleys etc. And get to know each other that way.”

Smelly Guy: (Clearly frustrated and gasping for air)  “But…..I…..I didn’t….I didn’t budget for this!”

Wait.  WTF did he say?  Pause for instant replay.

Smelly Guy: “But…..I…..I didn’t….I didn’t budget for this!”

No he did NOT just say that.  One more time for the record.

Smelly Guy: “But…..I…..I didn’t….I didn’t budget for this!”

Me:  “Huh?”

Smelly Guy:  “Movies, restaurants, bowling alleys…these things cost money!  I didn’t budget for this!  I’m trying to rebuild my 401K!”

Wow!  Way to make a girl feel special!  I didn’t budget for my lunch today but I still bought it.

Me:  “Well I didn’t expect you to pay for me.”

Smelly Guy:  “Now you make me sound cheap.”

Didn’t take much did it?

Me:  Well, hey, these are my conditions and if you’re not game, that’s fine.  No skin off of my nose.  We can call it quits right here and now.  Sooner or later I’ll find someone else willing to follow my rules.”

Smelly Guy:  ” (sigh)  No.  I’ll figure something out.”

Me:  “Are you sure?”

After all, you have your 401K to rebuild.

Smelly Guy:  “Yeah.  I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Me:  “I’ll be there.”

This is going to be interesting.

*****To Be Continued****

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A. Marie Smith

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