So, I went to see a band play at a club. Yes, a club. But I was press covering and, quite frankly, ain't nothin' happ'nin' at church on Thursday nights. And it was Dennis Quaid's band. Why not? But that doesn't tell the full story. Did I mention the club was in Beverly Hills? Just checking.
What do you associate Beverly Hills with? Well, of course, wealthy and very attractive people who wear expensive designer clothes. Perhaps people would be there would want to see and be seen. And then there was dancing after the band. I just minded my busines moving very subtly to the music.
Suddenly a man walked up to me out of nowhere and took my hands...
Man: Hey, do you want to dance?
Me: Sure, OK.
Man: Wow, you're so pretty.
What is that smell?
Man: Are you an actress?
Man: You should be. You're beautiful. And you're wearing a pretty flower in your hair.
OMG, what's that smell?
Me: No, I don't want to be.
Man: You really should be. I'm an actor and a director.
Wow, he's really laying it on thick.
Man: So do you live around here?
Man: Where do you live?
I back away just a little bit. First, I hate yelling in clubs. Second,dear God, he really smelled. It reached 100 degrees that day, but it didn't quite explain what offense hit my nostrils. He reeked as if he had worn the same suit for two weeks without showering. Or brushing his teeth.
There was no way that this guy wearing a non-designer suit and unfortunate shoes plus severe BO was going anywhere in this town. Thank God my silence seemed to work. He turned around and looked at the dance floor. Then he turned back to me at the end of the song.
Man: Thanks so much for this dance. Have a wonderful evening.
Hallelujah! I left the club laughing and feeling sorry for him a bit. Wow, if he's an actor, he's only acting like he's taking showers. And if he's a director, he should direct himself to take a real shower, use some real deodorant, and also have his suit dry cleaned. Seriously, people, I was ready to puke!
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