My friends and I have this thing where we never call men we date by their real names. Ever. They are always renamed based on either their personality, job title, or a very unfortunate physical feature. Like “Wee Man,” “Thumb Thumb.” And yes, those names mean exactly what you think they mean.
This is how we remember people, even years later. Because when it comes to people from our past, we like to forget them. So instead of calling them by their actual names, we call them by the nicknames we gave them. Honestly, it’s a much more effective system.
I once dated this guy for a very brief period of time, and if he were to ever stumble across this blog, I would genuinely love to see his face when he realizes this story is about him.
He picked me up for breakfast one morning, and afterward we came back to my place to sit on the couch, talk, and do a little cuddling. I had forgotten to close the curtains before I left, so the sun was shining in like it had something to prove. I didn’t close them because I actually love the way the sun lights up the front of my house.
I sat with my back to the window, and he sat facing me, with the sun hitting his chocolate skin perfectly. It was a very cute moment. Almost romantic.
I am an extrovert, so I was doing most of the talking. And I was talking so much that I almost missed it.
Almost.
A flash of yellow peeked through his smile.
At first, I thought maybe the light was playing tricks on me. Because the sun made it sparkle. Like gold. But it was not gold. And suddenly, that was the only thing I could see.
I needed to confirm.
But I didn’t want to be rude, so I lied and told him how much I loved his smile. He lit up and gave me the biggest grin.
All 32 teeth.
I have never seen that much plaque in my life. Ever. It looked like his teeth had been marinating in bad decisions.
I panicked.
And when I panic, I flee.
I grabbed my keys and left that man sitting on my couch. Drove straight to my friend’s house and cried like I had just escaped a low-budget horror movie. I was genuinely afraid to go back home to that mouth.
Eventually, I had to go back. And he was still there. Sitting. Waiting. Like a very confused puppy. Which is odd. Who just waits in someone’s home?
But then again, you could ask me. Who leaves someone sitting in their home unattended?
Let’s not judge, okay!
I told him I needed to go pick up my kids from my parents’ house.
He left.
And that was the last day I ever saw him.
But not the last day I ever remembered him.
Because in our friend group, nobody leaves unnamed.
And that was the day he earned his.
Yuck Mouth.
Love ya, BYE
Tee Talk 