Unkissable Bloke, I am

I went to Gordon Biersch last night, and, hungry from my 70-hour work week, ordered a heaping plate of garlic fries.

Never has garlic been as densely packed on an order of fries. It was delicious at the time, but, thirteen hours later, my breath still reeks like Gilroy, CA during festival season. I have enacted a multi-pronged plan of attack, including gum, toothpaste, an electric toothbrush, and additional food as the antidote to garlic stink, but they have all been unsuccessful.

Any suggestions? Or should I quit whining and learn to love the taste of deep-fried garlic?