Monday, October 27, 2003

Olfactory, try Ol'nasty

Having established that I am surprised that I can survive anywhere but a posh hotel lobby, I find myself working with constant olfactory challenges. Let us start with the one that won't leave my 18th birthday present, er um, rather my nose.

I know I work with the public. I bathe daily out of an american paranoia of germs, odor and the like. Perhaps I am working in a library where the patrons aren't "from around here". The man REEKED of alcohol, cigarettes, and intense body odor, that at one point I wished could have been masked by the alcohol and cigarette smell. Where had he come from? Was he getting really hammered, and decided "I must get a copy of Moby Dick before they are all checked out!" and ran from the bar into my library? Yuck. And worst, I can not just get a can of Lysol (R) and mist the offender. Can you believe that??

Second, Mr. Smellyjoggingpants. Same blue pair, same grease stains, same tire of adipose hanging over the untied waist cords (or should I say waste cords?). He smells like day old food, that was left in a hot car in Vegas, with the windows up. And a dead animal in the trunk. Parked in a manure heap. OK, thats extreme, but the BO is so bad, I can not move into that area of the library. Again, not only can't I spray Lysol (R), but I can't even get to the guy with some good stuff . That wouldn't even burn his eyes. For the love of G-d. If I wasn't such a nice Jewish boy...

Third. ALL smelly babies. Period. Come on Moms. You can tell when your kid shits his pants. I know you can. I can, the librarian can, even Mr. Smellyjoggingpants can tell! And then, its worse. At least with adults, you can move away. But kids FOLLOW YOU. They know I hate their rancid dirty bottom smell. So they follow me. Luckily, I can move quickly.

Fourth. Homeless guy. See above BO comments. Only his clothes are ripped, so its like an air vent, every move pushes more of the offending stench onword. I can't even talk about this. Its making me sick. For real. I am super

This leaves me with several possible solutions:

1. Wear so much cologne that people mistaken the new, cute, tall, thin guy for a French foriegn exchange page.
2. Wear the cream that forensic pathologists wear during an autopsy, under my nose..discreetly convincing coworkers that its the latest and greatest clinique moisturizing product.
3. Wear nose plugs, like the kind swimmers wear. I hate that idea. They only come in blue, and I like wearing fall colors.
4. Evict them and wait for lawsuits to start pouring in.

So you can see, I am really in a tough spot. A Rose is a Rose is a Rose, problem is A rotten fish is a rotten fish is a rotten fish....

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