Harsh Blow-offs

You don’t want to sleep with me. Fair enough. I don’t expect to instantly moisten the love tunnel of every bar skank in cougar town. But there’s no need to shoot down my sexual advances with a ballistic missile.

Last month I made the subtle miscalculation of hitting on a recently wed, ultra-Christian southern princess. She met my proposition with a disgusted gasp, a stage slap and a melodramatic declaration of my overall unworthiness.

“Well, I never,” she began. (I think fancy redneck chicks have to say that at least twice a day.)  “Even if I wasn’t taken, I’d never be interested in a boorish slob like you. You’re disgusting, unkempt and uncouth. Furthermore, I’d seriously consider a breath mint before approaching another lady, not that it would do much good in your case. I can already feel my eyebrows melting.”

As I watched her storm from the reception hall, I found myself focusing on the word furthermore. Yes, that was the stinger. Furthermore? Really? As if the initial string of insults wasn’t enough to make the case.

In fairness, I was crashing a wedding … her wedding to be exact. Still, there’s no need to be harsh. I might have screwed the proverbial pooch in regards to accepted courtship rituals, but in my view, the furthermore thing was over the top.