Garlic Broccoli

            Disclaimer: please excuse me, but today I have nothing to write worth reading because I have a cold, I forgot to brush my teeth, and I still don’t have an awesome boyfriend. These conditions distract me. They’ve become all I can think about. And what troubles me more is this realization: minor disturbances like having a cold and forgetting to brush one’s teeth may hold the potential to compromise what might have developed into fulfilling romantic relationships. (I've experienced neither of the scenarios below).

           

            Scenario #1: you’re seated next to a handsome man on a flight to Denver. He’s wearing a red sweater with an image of moose on it, and you like moose. You exchange looks confirming your mutual discomfort about the baby wailing one row ahead. And the obese man (there’s always the obese man) headed down the aisle with his eyes on the prize: the empty seat next to you where he’ll finally get to rest. 

            “This is gonna be fun,” the moose guy says. Then, winking: “You don’t look so bad I guess.”

             “Well sometimes I throw up during landing,” you say and realize instantly that this is a terrible way to introduce yourself in any situation. But it gets worse: feeling your nose about to drip, you blow hard into a used napkin you pull from your pocket. Your nose begins to bleed, and somehow blood gets on his sweater.

            He heads to the restroom. Whatever, the sweater was dark red anyway. He’s never even seen a moose, and you wouldn’t have exchanged numbers because he’s not staying in Colorado. He’s a hipster from New York City headed to ski for the first time. He has a third nipple. Tell yourself this story; it will be the only way you’ll get through the next four hours and the rest of your life.

            Scenario #2: you ate garlic broccoli at a Chinese restaurant. Shortly after, on the treadmills, you encounter the guy you’ve been crushing on since 2008. Insert a more appropriate location if you please (unless you have poor judgment like I do, you probably won’t be treadmilling shortly after Chinese food).

            “So you’ve been running a lot?” he says. You’re both tying your shoes.

            “I’m training for a race in Death Valley where you run three days without stopping!” you say.

            “I’m training for that one too! I’ve never met anyone else who’s into that sort of thing,” he says, and you become even more convinced that you’re an excellent match. And then you burp. Silent but deadly because you ate garlic broccoli. He steps onto the treadmill and puts in earphones.

            One garlic broccoli burp has cost you a future of running ultra marathons together in Death Valley. Of cryptic text messages to start, then camping trips, then arguments over who moves in the bed and wakes the other and who doesn’t. Couldn’t you have waited until you were married to eat garlic broccoli and burp?

            I did say I’m preoccupied with the fact that I don’t have an awesome boyfriend, and perhaps a guy who would be so offended by a drop of blood on his sweater or one little burp isn’t all that awesome. I’m not so sure though. Aren’t we all guilty of having been turned off by offenses such as garlic broccoli burps? Bad breath? Dandruff? Even when the culprits are otherwise appealing?

            So I guess there’s always something to write that’s worth writing and worth reading. Even writing about why you have nothing to write about can lead to a lesson or a laugh (or both) for you and your reader. One garlic broccoli burp may alter the course of your life!

            While I’m on a roll, I’ll offer another piece of advice: read don Quijote because it contains everything you’ll ever need to know about literature. It also references many other classics, which, in literary theory, is called “intertextuality.” Which sounds like intercourse between books. Which reminds me about how there’s an Intercourse, PA and a Blue Balls, PA –– both places where the Amish live. Which leads me to believe that the guy who dictated such names must have known that the most serious part of the day should be making sure you don’t slip in the shower.