Dear Miss Lonelyhearts: I met a man at a popular bar on Main Street two weeks ago who was drinking, dressed badly and stinking to high heaven. He said he just drove in from the cottage at the lake in a hot car with broken air conditioning. I didn't believe he had a cottage, or even enough money to buy deodorant. It sounded like a big story. We had a fun time talking for a bit, but then his smell got to me, and I brushed him off abruptly. He went back to his "lake buddies," who looked just as bad. No loss, I thought.
This Friday, at the same bar after work, I spotted a good-looking "suit" who looked like he could be that guy's brother. He saw me, gave me a grim smile and lifted his glass with a Rolex on his wrist. Suddenly, I realized he was the same sweaty guy, but now looked like a million bucks. I went over and apologized profusely, but he just said, "Uh-huh," and turned his back. I slunk back to my friends and had a few shots for courage. Then I went back and demanded to know why he's being such a snob.
He said, "You didn't like me, or believe anything I said last week, when I was in grubby clothes. I like you even less now you're drunk and coming on to me, and I'm dressed up from work." I blushed and left. I don't know what to think. -- Am I Really a Snob? South End
Dear Snob: You rejected him when he looked like a pauper and went after him when he looked like a prince. You're guilty of snobbism the first week and gold-digging the second. On his side, we could dock him for drinking too much and smelling like a skunk the first week, but what he said the second week was fair.
You might have won that second round, if you'd said, "I though you were cute and fun last week, but do you have you any idea how skunky you smelled?" There's a 50/50 chance he would have laughed, and you would have both been friendly again.
Dear Miss Lonelyhearts: This is in response to Party Pooper and the deafening-music issue. I'm a drummer in a local rock band. As an avid fan of "devil rock" played loudly, that's done with like-minded people, or by myself. But when I have anyone in the car, house, or whatever, with me, all music is off. Maybe I'm old fashioned, but I find conversation with people more enjoyable than any form of audible media.
If Party Pooper wants/needs good earplugs, most hearing centres will make you custom-fitted musicians' earplugs. I use them. They aren't cheap, but they're excellent. I wore them at a concert so loud it actually blew my hair around. After the show, my wife (who has the same earplugs) and I could have a normal conversation without yelling. -- Saving Our Ears, Winnipeg
Dear Saving Ears: Too many people endure extremely loud music without earplugs to be cool. It's not so cool when you're left out of conversations because you can't hear what people are saying anymore. There is no need to be deaf before your time. It's ironic that people who love sound are often the first to lose the ability to hear.
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