So, that sucked...

I pulled up into the parking lot at school just a few moments ago. A white Dodge Caravan pulled up right beside me. Stereotypically, this would have been one of the many 40-something-year-old moms who attend this fine institution of higher education, so I didn't think much about it.

Until she got out. She was gorgeous. About 5'2" with brown hair a few inches below her shoulders. Stylishly dressed, she had a sweet look about her. She smiled as she exited her vehicle and I smiled back with an overly emphasized "Hi!" We began walking toward the same building and I thought I had a chance to talk it up a little.

Until...

I started noticing something strange. She smelled like fried chicken. No joke. She smelled like she had jumped in with the chicken as it was being fried. I'm surprised she didn't have batter on her.

I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with fried chicken or those who cook it. However, this "Essence of Chicken" perfume turned my radar back to "standby."

Why did this beautiful young woman have to smell like fried chicken? I guess I'll never know.