Comic. Tragic. Anosmic.

Story Sent in by Kathleen:

Will and I were at dinner on our first date at an outdoor cafe on a summer night. He had a small, blue spray bottle with him, and would spritz himself with it every few minutes.

"It's to cool me down," he explained. It wasn't an especially hot evening, but if that's what kept him comfortable, then that was fine.

We were in the middle of a decent conversation when he asked, "Do you smell farts?"

Instinctively, I sniffed the air. Then, I held my breath. "No. Do you?"

He said, "Not right now, I mean, ever. I've never, ever smelled a fart."

"Lucky you," I said, wondering what brought on the topic.

He spritzed himself with the bottle. "Can you describe it to me? What do they smell like?"

I wondered at why he chose me, of all the people in his lifetime, to describe such a thing to him, and in all situations, why on a date.

He continued, "I think it's a medical condition. I can smell things like the food, the street, and your musk, but when people around me have complained about fart smells, I can't smell a thing that would cause such a disturbed reaction."

I was approaching a disturbed reaction, myself. Still, I played along and said, "Like rotten eggs. Can we move on?"

"Eww!" he said, making a face, then spritzed himself again, "Gross! No wonder people get so freaked out by them."

Desperate to move away from this talk, I said, "At least the food smells good."

He sprayed himself with his bottle again. His face was dripping wet. "But in a few hours, it'll fart out of us, and then it won't smell good. Like rotten eggs. What's the medical condition where you can't smell?"

He sprayed more water onto himself. All this flatulence talk, his soaked face, and the heat were making my head swim. I said, "Anosmia. But I don't think there's such a thing as just tuning out one smell."

He grinned, then leaned to one side, then farted. He said, "Guarantee you, I won't smell a thing."

"That's amazing," I said.

What was amazing was that I was still out to dinner with this guy. I hurried us to a hasty close. He definitely noticed and spent the rest of dinner trying to be extra-nice to me and insisted on picking up the tab, take me wherever I wanted, etc. I thanked him for dinner, went on my way, and stopped dating for a while after that.