Coffee Breath

I gurgled the menthol mouthwash in an attempt to remove the permanent tinge of coffee, spitting it out the window as I arrived at the park for my first date in three years.

I turned to my wingman in the passenger seat. “How 'bout now?”

I opened wide as Bobby leaned toward me, his long snout entering the cavern.

“Whew!” He retracted against the passenger door, waving a hand before his nose.

“Crap! It’s still that bad?”

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “Yup,” he replied in an airy voice, dropping his window for fresh air.

I scrutinized the bottle of mouthwash. “Maybe I should have gone with a name brand.”

Bobby rummaged through a convenient store bag. “Try this one.”

He tossed me another bottle. I tore off the cap and poured the contents into my mouth, only to spray it onto the dash immediately after. Translucent red liquid showered the Corolla windshield and speckled my white shirt. 

“Woah, Sam! You okay?” 

He patted my back as I coughed.

“Cinnamon, Bobby!?” I threw the bottle at him. “You got me cinnamon freaking mouthwash?” I grabbed a tissue from the center console to wipe my dripping nose. “Great! Now I smell like hot cider.”

Bobby shrugged. “Maybe she likes hot cider.”

“Yeah, maybe to drink. You don’t see them making spiced cider cologne, do you?”

“Well, actually I saw-”

“Can it, Bobby!”

His eyes trailed to the floor. “Did it at least fix the smell?”

I huffed hot breaths of air into my cupped hand, searching the scent like a hound.

“No,” I replied. “It’s just a spicier version of what it smelled like before.”

I slapped the sticky steering wheel. 

“Shouldn’t have indulged in a coffee this morning,” he remarked.

“Well, I can’t operate without it, and now everything is ruined.”

“It’s not ruined. The date hasn’t even started. Maybe Loretta won’t notice.”

“Won’t notice,” I mocked. “You and the guys at work call me Sulfur Sammy, and Dean handed me a stick of gum before my portfolio presentation the other day. Don’t tell me she won’t notice.”

“Did the gum at least work?”

“Gum only hides it for like five minutes. I’d go through five packs before the date ends.”

“I mean, if that’s what it takes.”

I slumped in my seat, shaking my head at the pink-stained trails on my shirt. “You should’ve never put me on that stupid dating app.”

“Hey now, don’t go blaming me. I was just trying to help you get back into the game.”

“Maybe I didn’t want your help.”

He folded his arms. “Want and need are two different things.”

“Well, I didn’t need it either!” I grouched.

I stared through the windshield at the water fountain where Loretta and I were supposed to meet in less than five minutes. A couple was sitting on the edge, leaning toward one another to kiss.

“I can’t do this.”

“Hold on now,” Bobby said. “Let me see what else I have.”

His head disappeared into the convenient bag.

“Forget it. I have my own solution.”

I reached behind my seat for my last resort option. 

“Gross!” Bobby shriveled in his seat, his mustache squirming as he grimaced. “Peroxide?”

“Not just peroxide,” I said, reaching again in the back. “Peroxide and baking soda.”

“Won’t that stuff blow up in your mouth or something?”

I shook my head. “My grandfather brushed his teeth with peroxide and baking soda.”

“Hey, that’s an idea. Why don’t you just brush your teeth?”

“Well, duh, Bobby! I brushed four times today.”

“If only you would brush four times every day.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Did you brush your tongue too?”

“It’s called brushing your teeth, not brushing your tongue.”

Bobby face-palmed. “Everyone knows you’re supposed to brush your tongue, Sam.”

disregarding him, I turned back to the bottle. I popped open the cap and sprayed the peroxide into my mouth, followed by pouring baking soda onto my tongue.

The insides of my mouth bubbled like Pop Rocks. A frothy foam tickled my gums and enveloped my teeth. It was mostly bitter, slightly salty, and carried a metallic tingle like licking a battery.

I spit the science experiment out the window after thirty seconds of swishing. The residue left behind a glazed film that coated my palate like milk.

Wiping my face, I leaned back to Bobby. He inhaled deeply. 

“It’s better,” he said with a slight dip in his tone.

“But?” I gestured with my hand for him to continue.

“But the scent isn't gone.”

“Come on!” I threw my head back in my seat. “This date is doomed.”

“Ah, don’t say that, Sam. You’re a good guy. She’ll see that.”

“She won’t be seeing anything if she smells me first. Maybe I should just go home.”

“You can’t do that! Everyone will ask why you stood her up.”

“No one will ask.” I shifted the car into reverse. “They’ll already know why.”

Bobby punched me in the arm as the car began to roll.

“Come on, Sam. Stop!”

I dropped my foot on the brake, causing us both to shake from the sudden halt.

“Listen to yourself,” he said. “For all you know Loretta is worrying about a dozen other things like her nails and hair and outfit. You’re over here freaking out about one thing.”

I sat silently, foot on the brake, ready to release.

“Remember her profile, Sam? It literally said ‘coffee-lover.’ Maybe she’ll like your coffee breath.”

“I hope not.”

“For all you know, her breath reeks worse than yours.”

“All the more reason to leave,” I muttered.

“Come on, Sam. Is this really about your bad breath?”

I dropped my head.

“Are you sure this doesn’t have to do with something else?”

I threw the gear stick into park. “I’m afraid, okay?”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid to get rejected! I haven’t gone on a date in years, Bobby. I’m not datable. What do I have to offer? I don’t have a high-paying job, I live in a lousy excuse of an apartment, and to top it all off, my breath smells worse than the landfill. It was a mistake to agree to meet with her.”

Bobby put a hand on my arm. “You’re never going to be ready, Sam. You just have to go for it.”

“And what if she rejects me?”

“Then she isn’t the one, and you try again.”

I looked at the clock on the dash. I was supposed to be at the water fountain a minute ago.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try, Sam.”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded my head. “Alright, fine. But if this blows up in my face, I’m blaming you.”

“You can thank me later,” he replied.

I rolled up my sleeves and shook out my hands to remove first-date jitters.

“Have any last minute breath antidotes?”

A sly grin slithered over his face as he jingled the bag. “I always come prepared.” 

He dug into his bag and pulled out two baking ingredients. 

Nervous heat crept up my spine. “Are you sure this will work?”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but it’s a surefire solution.”

I cracked my neck on each side before holding out my hand. Bobby piled parsley flakes into my palm. I took a pinch of the green seasoning and rubbed it against my teeth before pouring the rest of the handful into my mouth, moving it around the cavity with my tongue.

“Ready?” Bobby asked.

“Mhm,” I replied, holding back a cough.

He unscrewed the cap of lemon concentrate. I put the brim to my quivering lips. I stopped for a moment, considering if this was worth it. 

“You can do this, Sam,” Bobby cheered.

Pulling back my shoulder blades and pumping out my chest, I turned my head to Heaven letting lemon juice fill my mouth.

My throat immediately burned as the citrus fluid bubbled and splashed from gargling. I then began to swish, my cheeks puffing in and out. The parsley tossed to and fro like rafts lost at sea.

My tongue became a raisin; my lips puckered into a knot; my teeth ached as tartness strangled my gums.

As I fought the sour demon, Bobby clapped and chanted.

“Hold it! You got this, Sam! Just a few more seconds, Sam! You can do this!”

I banged my fist against the door as I continued swishing the mixture. Tears blurred my vision, and my eyes twitched from citrus overload. When I couldn’t take it any longer, I leaned over the open window and dropped my jaw, releasing the lemon and parsley mixture onto the parking lot.

Bobby hollered behind me, patting my back. “All right! Let’s go, man!”

I  gave him a thumbs up as I spat out the window, my lips still tingling from the acid. He handed me a handful of tissues to clean my face and teeth. I looked in the visor mirror to ensure I rescued every green life raft left behind.

“Did it work?” I beseeched.

He leaned in close one final time to smell my breath.

“Well,” he started, “your morning coffee is no longer present.”

“Thank God!”

“But… you kind of smell like baked lemon chicken now.”

“Oh, you have to be kidding me!” I banged my steering wheel as fear returned. “I can’t go over there smelling like this.”

“It’s better than the coffee breath. And look, you’re out of time.” He pointed at the dash. 

“Should I try the mouthwash again?”

“No more excuses, Sam.”

I looked toward the fountain, then back at Bobby. He raised his eyebrows at me expectantly. Every part of me wanted to remain where I was, but I knew Bobby was right. Loretta didn’t deserve to be stood up.

I stepped out of the car and stood on the sidewalk with shaky knees. Bobby joined my side, handing me a water bottle.

“Go get her, tiger,” he said with a slap on my shoulder. “I’ll pick you up in a few hours.”

I rinsed with water as Bobby pulled away. My mouth was raw from the abuse it had endured.

I walked over to the meeting place and sat patiently on the edge of the fountain, listening to the constant pitter-patter of water while I waited.

Two minutes passed, then ten, then fifteen. I looked at my phone, then to my left and right, then back to my phone. No text, no missed calls, and no sign of Loretta.

I wondered if I was the one being stood up. Maybe she had second thoughts. Maybe she looked me up and realized I’ve been single for far too long. Maybe she knows someone from work, and they told her I’m cursed with coffee breath.

Clenching my clammy hands together, embarrassment riddled my veins. Too ashamed to even call Bobby, I decided to walk home.

I stood from my seat when Loretta’s blonde curls bounced up the sidewalk. Her high-rise jeans hugged her curves with every stride. Her green v-neck blouse matched the emerald eyes I remembered from her profile picture.

Catching my gaze, she moved toward me. I pursed my lips tightly, fearing her breathtaking appearance would be my demise, the melodic fountain would be my requiem.

Freckles drizzled the bridge of her nose. Her cheeks were rosy from the brisk air. A fresh scent fluttered around her. Floral, earthy, and citric—bergamot perfume I assumed.

“Oh my gosh, so sorry I’m late!” Loretta announced. “I had to deal with something last minute. You must be Sam.”

She smiled widely and held out her hand.

For the first time since planning this date, I felt at ease. My shoulders loosened. my fists released. I even laughed. I was no longer afraid.

But it wasn’t her smile that relaxed my nerves; it was the piece of parsley stuck in her teeth.