2020, SUMMER

Something's in the air tonight, and it ain't love - A Cupid's Aim Review

♡

Once upon a time, a girl set out to have the perfect coffee date, only to have it rudely interrupted by a heinous fart.

We met at a small red-bricked cafe tucked away in a corner of Little Red, a predominantly Dwarvish community. Across the lane, pigeons strutted their stuff like they owned the sidewalk (they weren't wrong). The aroma of coffee and daffodils clung to the air. Fledgling maples stood tall and gilded under the sun's watch while late summer breezes transformed discarded newspapers into adventurous tumbleweeds.

It was a quiet pocket of space and time where the chatter of the big, bad city blew away. I sat, casual and quaint, in striped sweater, ripped jeans and rainbow galoshes. I smiled. She returned it in crooked recreation. All was set for a picture perfect Saturday date.

And then Fred, sitting opposite me in paint splattered denim overalls, let one rip. A colossal stinker mushroom clouded from her butt. It rose into the air with all the menace and bite of a death eater mark. Someone should have labeled her radioactive; her gas certainly was. It melted the snicker off my face with little effort.

Given a choice between sniffing that fart and smelling rotten eggs for the rest of my life, I'd have chosen the latter, gladly.

But, thankfully, Fred had the decency to blush. And she didn't try to pawn off ownership of the offensive gas onto one of the pigeons. Thank god, wherever they were, we were outside. Though much good it did us.

Even with the steady cross-breeze, the stench lingered. Like a bad party guest who wouldn't leave despite the empty snack bowls and lack of music. An innocent passerby, some woman in a neon green jogger out walking her pittie, moonwalked, like the stuff of Michael Jackson, just to escape the odor; it was that bad. No exaggeration.

Honestly, it's been a few hours since then, and I'm still catching whiffs. Here and there, like its lodged itself inside me so it can make a cruel final appearance right before I croak.

There'd been no recovering after the fart. We couldn't even look each other in the eyes, much less converse naturally. The laughing felt forced, the pauses as big and deep as the Mariana Trench.

Amiably, we called it quits. I took the rest of my chocolate croissant to go; she guzzled the remains of her cafe latte. The check was split and then we went our separate ways. Neither of us looking back as we scurried off into the sunset like roaches trying not to bake on hot, city asphalt.

So much for Cupid's Aim. The date was a bust and the app missed its mark.

#cupidsaim #missedtarget #datefail #nosuccessinbeaconbrights #everybodyfartsbutcomeon #atleastthefoodwasgood #evertheoptimist #ontothenextone

HEA UPDATE: No word on HEA. Fingers crossed, I snag that early access. Can't wait to learn how an angel kisses.

#softasfeathers #heavenorhell #singleinthecity #happilyeverafter #wheremymajjosat

Word Count: 501