A tale of teeth
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|Mon, 02-11-2013 - 8:26am|
Oh yes, I'm still searching for love online, and yesterday I met a doozy.
We live about an hour and a half apart, so agreed to meet halfway for lunch. We didn't have much of an exchange before we met, but he was educated and looked pretty good in his photos.
I got there first and waited outside. He walked up, looking kind of scrawny and not well-dressed, and when he smiled, I realized he didn't have any photos posted of him showing his teeth. The guy had Bubba teeth. I'm talking flaired-out, mishapen teeth with big gaps between them, mastadon-in-a-museum yellow, too. Now, I know not everyone had parents who could pay for braces, but dude, there is a product called Crest White Strips. Plus, the guy was in a high-paying career before he retired, he could have gotten his own braces.
Now, you might think I'm being harsh or stuck up, but basically, he had no social skills either. He was incapable of small talk, got off onto impossible-to-follow philosophical tangents and couldn't understand my jokes. But wait, there's more.
After he ate, he whipped out a toothpick and began picking his teeth. I'm not kidding. And let me tell you, he was really digging in, as if mining for gold. He must have picked them for about 10 minutes, just really digging away at it. I noticed he had a stain on his shirt too.
I was just horrified.
I escaped after about an hour and a half. It's a good thing I don't get my hopes up before these meetings. I hope he doesn't call, but if he does, I will have no trouble telling him I don't think we are a match.