Boys are Smelly
1:58 p.m. on March 04, 2005

Once a week I go on a walk with a friend I know from my old job. I call it a walk and talk, because it is our chance to get in some exercise and gossip simultaneously. We usually go around Greenlake, which has a 3-mile path around it that you can walk, bike or rollerblade. If it is raining or otherwise cruddy weather, then we will get side by side treadmills at the gym and annoy the hell out of the serious exercisers who do not want to hear our girly chit chat.

My friend had bailed on me each day this week, so yesterday was sort of our last chance for the walk as she works on Friday nights. When she called to confirm that we were in fact meeting after work, it happened to be a glorious evening: 60 degrees, sun shining, bird�s chirping. I was happy that we were going to be able to take advantage of the nice weather, since I had been trapped in my cubicle all day. Then my smile fell when she asked me the dreaded question: �Can my boyfriend come with us?� �SURE!� I responded a little too quickly and enthusiastically to cover up my immediate disappointment. Having a boy tag along changes the dynamics completely. I have actually known her boyfriend longer than I have known her and I do consider him a friend, so maybe it would not be that bad.

I arrived at the park in my sweat pants & tennis shoes raring to go, but my enthusiasm soon dissolved into irritation, as they were quite late. As soon as I saw them in the parking lot, my fears were confirmed: this was going to suck. They were dressed in regular pants and shoes and had their arms wrapped around each other like they were getting ready to run a 3-legged race. They reeked of smoke and alcohol having just come from a nearby bar. They unlatched their walking-hug long enough to give me a greeting and then they were back with their arms tight around each other. I swear to god that they did not let go of their mobile-embrace for the ENTIRE 3-mile walk. This irritated and slowed me down immensely.

During moments in my life when I was an unattached single lady, I would HATE to hang out with my coupled friends. There is just something so unfun about that, especially when they cannot keep their hands off each other. This was bringing me back to that third-wheel feeling & I did not appreciate it. It also made me not like my friend for the entire evening, as she was talking in a higher pitched vapid voice, cooing and giggling like a 14-year old idiot. YUCK!

Anyway, I was glad to get outside, but next time: NO BOYS!







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