Here is a story that illustrates perfectly the deep psychological effects of chronic bad breath

by Rafik

I found this story on a website...a must read!


Sure... I loved her. She was smart, attractive, polite and a total demon in the sack. Unfortunately, the perfection ended there. So what`s the problem, you ask? Simple...she had a garbage mouth.

No, I don`t mean she cursed like a sailor, I mean her mouth literally smelled like garbage. Beauty can hide a great many things, but it can`t mask bad breath. Those sweet nothings whispered late at night into one`s ear aren`t nearly so sweet when it smells like you are lying in a dumpster.

B.O. I could have handled. She was that beautiful. An uneven temperament would have been acceptable considering all her other great qualities. Even a Cindy Crawford "beauty mark" (known to us common folk as a mole) with three long hairs hanging off of it would probably not have deterred my affection.

Bad breath, however, is something I can`t stomach. I often wondered, "how can she not know?" It wasn`t as though she had a little problem. This was the kind of bad breath that showed itself in a brightly lit room.

I could swear that after a half-hour makeout session, my face would stink. There`s really no way to handle a situation such as this. I tried the old, "I`ve got gum, would you like a stick?", but to no avail. My next option was, "I`ve got a toothbrush, some floss and a bottle of Listerine...care to give it a try?" but luckily it never got that far.

She could sense that something wasn`t right between us. Maybe it was the way I winced whenever she spoke to me. Maybe it was the way I avoided being close to her face. Maybe it was the welder`s mask I wore on our last date.

I can`t be certain, but I do know that it relieved me to no end when she told me it just wasn`t working out between us.It relieved me even more that she told me over the phone.