There were no rules that first night we met, just what felt right. And it was oh so right. That is, before Mr. I-haven’t-brushed-my-teeth-in-three-weeks opened his mouth. Now ladies, we can usually excuse a guy for his lacking brain faculties and downright disregard for personal hygiene, but there was really only so much that I could take.

At first, I didn’t even notice the smell. When I first saw Jesse Marshall all I could see was “Man, what an awesome car!” “Wow, you work out a lot, don’t you?” and “You make how much?” You know what, this is probably my punishment for being so superficial. That cutesy-wootsy honeymoon phase lasted all of three weeks before I smelled it and that first stench hit me as hard as the 5 am rush on Black Friday. It was that bad.

Jesse had come over to my place. We were cuddling and watching a movie. It was the quintessential romantic moment. If my landlord had let me install that fireplace like I wanted, it would’ve been perfect. He had his arms around me and I thought I would swoon from the cuteness. Just as the credits roll, he turns to me and says “Hey Hun. How about some hamburgers and french fries for dinner?” The smell hits my nose and I almost choke. There was no denying it. That smell was definitely coming from his mouth. I put on my best everything-is-alright-in-the-world smile and say “Sounds Good.”

For the next couple of weeks, I tried to ignore the smell. I would try to hold my breath for as long as possible when he was talking to me face to face. I would always “accidently” leave my toothpaste and mouthwash at his house. I would even hide breath mints in my mouth for when we kissed. But, no matter how sneaky or inconspicuous I thought I was being, Jesse quickly caught on to what I was doing. I will give him that; the guy is as smart as he is unbelievably gorgeous.

I had “accidently” left another breath mint in his room when he takes the mints from my hand and dumps all of them down the toilet. How could I have the gall to think that he had bad breath? He asks me. I should be more than happy to have him as a boyfriend (despite his apparently non-existent dental hygiene problem.)

Now, I’m listening to all of this and am trying to be the perfect, attentive girlfriend that I am, but all I can see is this big ball of Jesse breath stench forming over our heads. With every word that explodes out of his mouth, the ball quadruples in size. I suddenly realize that I have been holding my breath since he began in fear that I may inhale the malodorous vapor that he calls his breath.

I snapped. “YOUR BREATH FRICKIN’ STINKS!” And I threw some Listerine tablets in his mouth as I ran for freedom and fresh air.