Silent but deadly

A while ago, I went out on a date with a guy I really liked. On our first "official" date, he picked me up in his truck to take me to a local bar/club. The drive over was going well; the conversation was good, the vibe was great.

Then he farted.

I didn't hear it; it was an SBD (silent but deadly) emission. I don't know what he ate before picking me up, but the resulting gas was nas-tay. The worst part is, he pretended that it hadn't happened.

Listen, I understand that some gas can escape when you're nervous. I'm certainly not saying that my own farts smell like cotton candy. My problem is that he didn't put the window down. Guys, if you have an escapee, don't pretend you didn't fart! Women have a slightly more acute sense of smell than you. If you absolutely need to save face, at least open a window and claim that you "need some fresh air." Eau De Colon tends to kill any attraction we might be feeling, especially if we don't know you very well yet.

At least the ride was short:

Well, THAT's sure to be a blockbuster.

Overheard by my friend Liz and I at a Hollywood party last week:

"My script is a cross between My Big Fat Greek Wedding and To Kill a Mockingbird."

Only in L.A., kids. Only in L.A.

The scary thing is, there's probably someone in Hollywood who'll greenlight this opus.