What The Hell Is That Smell....Did You Just Fart During The Second Course?!?

We're going to call this one, "Deejay Farts-Alot". This man gave a new meaning to flatulence.  I met this absolutely elegant man on Match. I read his profile profusely almost memorizing it. He was a thirty seven year old partner of a law firm in La Jolla. In my mind, I was already interviewing nannies and house shopping in the Luxurious Homes of San Diego magazine. He stood at five foot eleven which is perfect for my five inch heels. Great profile, hair like wheat, and eyes like fall leaves. Our children would have been gorgeous! Operative word being used here..."would". So we exchanged emails, funny lawyer jokes and emoticons. I had to meet this man. I'm no eager beaver, but damn! So, he planned a lovely date at Eddie V's in La Jolla.  He was waiting for me at the valet booth. He must have just gotten off from work because the man was still looking absolutely SEXY in his two thousand dollar Armani suit (don't judge, I know my brands). At this point, I'm still thinking....okay I have morals, no having sex on the first date. That is a no no! But seriously, DAMN!!!! I was trying to hurry inside so I don't change my mind about dinner, wanting to take him by the hand, lead him to my car and do really bad things. As we walked through the doorway, something smelly...REALLY SMELLY breezed by my nose. I turned around and looked at him and he flashed his pearly whites. I recalled, we were very close to the seals so I'm sure it was them. 

We sat at a lovely table in the corner (had I thought that this would have been the biggest mistake ever, I would have asked for a booth) Candlelight and an intimate setting couldn't have been any more perfect until that smell appeared again. I'm thinking, what the hell is that smell? I know it wasn't me, but just to make sure I started doing the undercover sniffs that women do so we don't look like idiots. 

The conversation was exciting with lawyer jokes tucked in between sarcastic pokes at each other. We were mutually cracking up. He ordered a bottle of Opus One...again, DAMN! I was enjoying my first sip when I heard this odd sound coming from his side of the table. Did this man just pass gas in a four star restaurant? He didn't miss a beat. He continued to gab just like nothing happened. In my mind, we were married with two kids and a nanny, a golden retriever, a plantation house, a summer house, and "Deejay Farts-Alot " is blowing up the restaurant.  I had no words. This man is ruining my future fantasy. All because his ass is expelling nauseous gas. 

I tried my hardest to continue the conversation but it seemed like every ten minutes this shit smelling cloud would hover under my nose. I'm smiling but trying to hold my breath.  He asked me if I was okay because I think my face was the shade of eggplant. I told him I was fine and the conversation continued as well as holding my breath and trying not to pass the hell out. My steak FINALLY came and thank God it smelled delicious. Definitely better than the air in that corner table. I cut into my juicy steak and right on the horizon of my sight, "Deejay Farts-Alot" tilted his body to the left. Did he just lift an ass cheek, forcing one out? OMG!!!! That was the last straw! I had to ask him, "Dude what's up with the flatulence, I'm trying to enjoy this delightful side of cow and your gas is causing me to tear!" He leaned towards me, almost like he was going to tell me a secret and let out the most obnoxious sounding fart. I was so embarrassed, that I took my napkin and covered half my face. I did not want to be associated with him, AT ALL!!! How the hell do I get out of this fart fog? And the thing is, he didn't even apologize. He asked if I wanted another bottle of Opus One.  Of course I stayed for that, but as soon as that bottle was done, I exited stage left! Does Armani suits come with a fart guards?