A typical date is dinner and a movie. A cousin of mine once gave me some advice about the downside to that. He told me, “never take a ‘cute date’ to a Mexican restaurant.” After dinner, he was feeling great pain from the rotten air in his stomach. He kept it in all through the movie.
Like a gentleman he opened the door for his date and let her in. Then he figured he had his chance. He discreetly let the gas out and fanned his backside as he slowly crept around the car to the driver’s side. When it seemed safe he got in the car. Then he smelled the most awful scent. Naturally, he thought it was her. “Was that you?” He blurted out rather pointedly.
Figuring the Mexican food had caused her the same problem, he thought they could both laugh at their shared fiasco. Boy was he dead wrong. The smell had followed him into the car. She thought him rude. I suppose he figured one thing right. He was probably dead to her now. If a girl doesn’t talk to you the entire ride home, you probably aren’t getting another date. He didn’t tempt asking for one.