Only Biology majors need apply...

During my junior year of college four years ago, a friend here in New Jersey who went to a different university than me suggested my brother and I stop by for a visit - there was a party going on that night, plus a girl named Michelle that he wanted me to meet and hopefully make a connection with. Before we went to the party, we all decided to have dinner at a local Chili's and meet the girls in question...and that's where things started to go downhill faster than Picabo Street on an Olympic trial run.

As we sat down to dinner, Michelle initiated an endless barrage of questions to me, a seemingly never-ending verbal fusillade that had me wanting to run for cover...only there was nowhere to escape to in our crowded booth. I certainly don't mind conversation with new people, but her inquiries bordered on a police interrogation, minus the hot lights and surly detectives. She followed this up with a 10-minute tangent about how much she loved laboratory rodents, and her desire to keep them as pets. What she didn't know is that I can't stand rodents, in any way, shape or form, but I did my best to be polite and listen anyway. After she finished, she turned to me and asked me my opinion of said animals, at which point I summoned all of my innate charm and charisma to compose this reply: "I hate them, Michelle..I really, really hate them." Clearly, the crestfallen look on her face told me that this wasn't the answer she expected, but I felt that her question deserved an honest answer. Little did I know that it would only get worse from there.

We went back to the apartment for the supposed party, only to find out that the "party" to be held was myself and my friends playing Monopoly with Michelle and her much-less eccentric friend Christina. Now Monopoly was great when I was 10 years old, but needless to say when you're in your early 20's looking to party on a Saturday night, deciding between being a hat or a race car, or who would buy Park Place isn't exactly what I had in mind. But as the guest, I decided to entertain this farce for at least a little while...only my brother had other ideas.

As our merry group of misfits played Monopoly, we suddenly detected the thick, heavy odor of cigar smoke. At this point, Michelle started coughing profusely and left the apartment, never to return that night. Apparently, my brother had discovered that Michelle was asthmatic, so he deliberately smoked inside the apartment to drive her away! While I certainly don't condone or excuse his drastic actions, I had to admit that her absence had me breathing a huge sigh of relief for the rest of the evening, pardon the pun. Thankfully, we went to a true party after all that and had a great time...but man, what an intro to the evening. I thanked my friend for his interest in wanting to set me up, but politely asked him that if he wanted to do this again, that the girl in question wasn't ready for a rubber room! My friend turned to me and said, "That's too bad, because there was someone else I had in mind...oh rats!"