The guy who sat in front of me in Political Science 145 smelled like a mix a baby powder and vinegar.

I was stuck behind him because the professor made us sit in alphabetical order.

His last name was Boda.

I remember it because it sounded like soda, which reminded me of baking soda, which made me laugh because vinegar and baking soda were what we used as kids to make our volcanoes erupt.

Isn’t word association fun!?

Anyways, all through the class, as the professor went on about international relations and human rights agendas, Boda would scratch away at his head, subconsciously pulling pieces of dry scalp from his hair.

And then eat it.

Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

For an entire quarter.

And, I thought, huh…this guy is never going to have sex with anyone.

Because, what type of person dates somebody who eats their own dandruff and smells like a giant, Baby Soft flavored douche?

For the first few weeks, I hated him.

He tested my gag reflux in a very unnatural way.

And, you know those guys who buzz their hair, even though they shouldn’t because their heads have bald spots and moles on it?

He was totally one of those guys.

Then, I thought, poor Boda.

You’re smelly, and you match your socks to your shirts, and no one is ever going to touch your penis, and fuck, that isn’t fair.

Even Gary Coleman gets his penis played with.

Even if it’s by a creepy, life like sex doll from Thailand.

And, Boda should, too.

I mean, sure, he ate his own scalp and his head smelled, but maybe his balls smelled totally normal?

He could find a nice, farsighted, midget girl.  Or boy.  Whatever.

I needed to help.

I have an innate need to fix people up.

I’m like a motherfucking yenta.

But, every time I thought I found myself a semi-attractive midget wearing glasses, it ended up being an over developed eight year old with bowed legs or freakish long monkey arms.

It was frustrating, I felt like such a failure.

At our final exam, for the first time ever, Boda turned around to talk to me.  He asked me to turn the Sex in the City ringer down on my phone (Clearly, Boda was a giant asshat with no taste).

And, then I saw it.

OMG clear braces.

And, that’s where I draw the line.

Because, I’ll help a smelly guy get laid, but I won’t ever sick a pair of adult clear braces on some girl’s poor vagina.

You’re welcome.

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