Nothing like a good impromptu trip into Target. You already have some anxiety about stepping foot in to this store because inevitably you will not just grab the Ziplock bags you need. Instead, you will end up spending $100 on razors, cleaning supplies, and a random graphic tee. However, this piece is not about Target directly. It is about something I encounter every time I step into a Target, grocery store, even doctor’s office. This week’s post is about body odor.
I know what you’re thinking…how do you go from talking about Target to body odor? Well, it happened like this. I’m walking in Target, in the women’s clothing section and as I hurriedly scan the clearance section, I am immediately open hand slapped in the face by the most horrific of smells. Surely, this smell cannot come from any living human. So I immediately begin to look for the elephant that wandered into the store or the goat…it could be goat. But alas, there was no elephant or goat, or even 2 day old dead opossum. There was however a woman, who looked at me as if she knew I smelled her. She just stared at me, as if we were smack dab in the middle of some old western movie. I stared into her eyes to enter her funky soul…she smelled like everything inside of her was the color grey. Lungs: Grey. Heart: Grey. Gallbladder and Colon: Grey. She was dead on the inside and everything just gave up on existing and the smell that radiated from her body was death. To make matters worse, when I inhaled, I think my mouth was open. Which now means that I need mouthwash STAT! I can’t prove it, but I’m certain that upon inhaling that funk that encircled me, that I was undoubtedly plagued with instant halitosis.
So many different emotions and thoughts washed over me in that brief moment. What if someone walked past that section, after seeing me walk out of that section, and thought it was me? What if the horridness adheres itself to my clothes? What if she breathes on me? What if everything she touches turns into a blanket covered in mildew? OH LAWD! What am I going to do? Then I stopped. I thought, maybe she doesn’t know she smells like a petting zoo in Phoenix on the warmest day of the summer season at 4pm. It isn’t my place to tell her directly, but maybe I can help someone else by producing a list of ways that you know that you might have B.O. issues. So here we go. My 5 ways of knowing you just might STANK.
1) If your nickname is a combination of your birth name with an adjective in front and this is how people differentiate you from others.
i.e. “Hey, guess who I saw the other day?”
“I saw Mike at the bar I went to last night.”
“Mike? Mike who?”
“You know, Stinky Mike”
“Oh shat…yeah, Stinky Mike…that muffoccur right there. Damn.”
I am certain that you have had this conversation at least 3 times in your life.
2) Even with your favorite cologne or perfume on, you walk around wondering why you have a hankering and keep smelling a $5 Footlong from Subway, with Italian dressing, and red onions, and regular onions, and a garlic dressing and garlic bread instead of the regular bread they always use…
3) Dogs howl and whine at you. You have disrupted their ability to smell things regularly. They can’t remember where they buried their chew toy. Police dogs cannot hold the scent of the hoodie of a small child in order to find her and possibly save her life. All because you don’t know the value of the friendship between yourself and a bar of Lever 2000.
4) When your friends hug you, they discreetly try to take a deep breath first. They don’t answer your “How are you?” question until they are 2 feet away from you. Talking during the hug forces them to breathe and inhale and they don’t want any parts of that funk taking over their body like the virus spread by the Outbreak monkey. (which reminds me, maybe we should just shoot stankified people with potpourri darts in the ass, I digress)
5) Your deodorant fails. Every time. Every brand. All the time. Your Right Guard makes a U-turn. Your Secret puts you on blast on Facebook. Your Dove turns into a Seagull and drowns itself. There is nothing on the shelves or in your kitchen cabinet that can tame the level of funkery that oozes from your open stink pores. The only time you can control it is when you are sitting in a bathtub full of tomato juice. Sometimes that backfires and you end up smelling like baked ziti.
So, now you know. Help someone. Spread this news. Tape green alcohol soaked gauze under their arm pits. Stick a Glade Plug-In wherever you deem necessary. Buy them baby wipes that are scented with lavender and turpentine. Pin them down and stuff them with mint leaves and rose petals in every orifice. Help keep America clean and rid us of the horrifying stench of these violators of sensory function. If you are offended by this…you might just be the smelly muffoccur that I’m talking about. Go ahead and be mad…just keep your spoiled collard greens smelling ass out of Target. Thank J
And I’m Gone.