Ladies, I know that you want to think that men disappear for no reason.  In fact, sometimes we do.  But sometimes it’s self-preservation.  That’s the reason I ghosted her… here’s the story:

This woman was ideal.  She was beautiful, had a PHD, goal driven, intelligent, well-traveled, and laughed at all of my jokes.  She was ideal for me… well, that’s if I was ready to stop sewing my wild oats… which I was not at the time.  I met her during my whore days (for lack of better terms).  Stories of her beauty and sex appeal pre-dated me meeting her through a friend of mine who used to see her in the gym.  He was so awestruck over shorty that he would try to convince me to come to the gym with him just to get a glimpse.  So, you can add that to her list of attributes, she was in shape, well-groomed and really took care of her outer appearance.

I officially met her through a cousin while out for dinner one day.  After she laughed at a couple of my jokes, I shot my shot and she was down.  The best way to describe it is, it was an experience like none other- and not in a good way.

Looking back, if I could pass up being intimate with this person, I would.  But when you’re a young man, not too often are you going to pass up the opportunity to get some.  Hell, I don’t know too many old single men that would pass it up (I just need to put it out there that I am happily married now and far removed from the days where I thought it was OK to be an asshole to the opposite sex.  It just takes that one to turn us around.  Ladies take note.).

I remembered the time when she sat down on the couch and I got a whiff of something peculiar, but I just thought it was the smell of the couch cushion.

Sadly, I have never been so wrong in my life, because once we got down to “do the do” I  was hit with the unsettling reality that the smell permeating from the couch cushions was in fact seeping from between her legs.  And it wasn’t a smell that was normal.  You know, when you’ve been out all day and just need to take a shower? No.  It was a smell that was so grotesque that it literally made my stomach churn.

The former me being me, thought that this couldn’t be it.  She was too well put together and too appealing to the eye for this to be what it was. It was just a bad day for her… right? So, I gave her a break.  However, when we went at it again, her box still smelled like Time Square.

So, I gave up.  Her calls and texts went unanswered.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that her junk reeked of pollution.  Nor could I subject myself to the stench for a third time.

However, she’s married today.  So someone must’ve been more brave of a guy that me.