People continually over-scent themselves and then jam into crowded train cars. Today was no different. A woman on the train had gotten slaphappy with her fragrance of choice.
Our actual conversation went like this.
me: *manly sneeze*
lady: *unaware of surroundings*
And then it ended. Without recourse. Like many before it. I should’ve a) let her know about it, b) made my friends proud by being able to report a story of witty proportions and c) made myself feel like a winner, but instead forgot my abc’s and said nothing.
In a more perfect world, the conversation would’ve gone like this.
me: *manly sneeze*
lady: *unaware of surroundings*
me: Yes, it’s your fault.
lady: Excuse me?
me: The reason I sneezed.
lady: What? I don’t –
me: Your perfume. Too much. It’s like you’re trying to cover up sin or something.
lady: Who do you –
me: I’m the guy whose nostrils your “aura” just ravaged.
lady: You should know, this “aura” costs $100 a bottle.
me: Then you should make a trip to small claims court and file for damages. Because it also smells like it has real bits of panther in it.
lady: And just what are you wearing?
me: [name of cologne]
lady: Ha. Never heard of it.
me: You also can barely smell it because I didn’t rig my shower to spray it rather than water.
lady: It has to last the day. *attempts to ignore and return to paper*
me: Ma’am, that would last until the end of days.
lady: *folds paper* So. What?
me: So, to be fair, you should sniff that guy’s pit. *nodding to the crotch-rubber sweating from the everywhere, on this 50 degrees-morning, like it’s a part-time job*
lady: You’re a rude little –
me: Oh! My stop. There is a god and he can smell you, too.
At first I read “squeeze” instead of “sneeze.”
Yeah, I need more coffee.
Haha. If I had squeezed her, this story would’ve been very, very different.
I bet she would have paid extra if she’d known about the real bits of panther.
I also wish I had more occasion to use this line: “There is a god and he can smell you, too.”
It’s true. Jesus may not want some people for a sunbeam, but he doesn’t want anyone to stink.
I think panther would actually smell good, like raw sexuality or Javier Bardem. But I guess there can even be too much of that.
“Like raw sexuality or Javier Bardem.” This is (so much of) why I like you. No one else could write that line.
You’d have to time that conversation perfectly so that you could do the “my stop” thing at the end.
I know. Luckily, I am the type who anticipates stops, what side the door will open to, etc.
Clearly Lexa hasn’t seen Anchorman. Though I think I’d do Paul Rudd even if he did smell like ass.
Don’t you hate when you come up with something witty to say after the fact? That happens to me all the time.
All the time. I wish I was as quick as guys are in the movies.
Cookies. Why can’t everyone just smell like cookies? Or bacon?
Am I wrong for reading this and wondering about bacon cookies?
Bacon, A????? Really??? I don’t know what’s funnier—f.B.’s post or this comment.
Haha. Definitely the comment.
I know somone who has a bacon cookie recipe. When she makes them she uses a piggy-shaped cookie cutter after rolling out the dough.
Truthfully, I’m a little scared of them.
lol. i always choke when i walk by A&F in the malls. i feel suffocated.
Good point. Bad smells are not at all limited to the metro.
Will someone—ahem, *you*—pleeeeeease write a book about daily Metro experiences?? Seriously, it’s a best seller just waiting to be born.
A book about Metro experiences… I actually really like that idea.
A wizened man in a Neiman Marcus once told me,
“The only person who should ever actually smell your cologne or perfume is your lover.”
Rules to live by.
That’s really high on the list of rules to live by. I’m even putting it ahead of “trim toenails regularly.”
Has anyone else ever wondered how people can never smell themselves? How does that work? And by people I mean those who wear too much perfume/cologne and those who have never heard of or laid hands on DEODORANT.
Haha: “never heard of or laid hands on DEODORANT.”
Perfume doesn’t bother me so much. Its the people who smoke about 50 packs/day and/or refuse to bath/shower/wear deodorant that make me want to puke!
The refusal to take care of hygiene is so aggressive. And so overrated.
Sorry, but I think too much perfume is worse than the heaviest smell of smokers or the hygenics of a caveman.
I swear to god this is a scene out of an independent film. Or maybe this is a scene out of the francoBeans film.
With this new phone, on-the-spot films may make more frequent appearances here.
oh god, those people. THOSE PEOPLE. i’m with the old neiman marcus guy: people should have to ASK if you’re wearing something, because it should be so subtle you’re not sure if they just naturally smell really yummy.
Word to the Neiman Marcus guy. He is a prophet.
Well, personally, I thought the imaginary conversation was very witty, so you get points for that.
Suh. weet. I will take points.
Our receptionist wears CRAZY perfume too to cover up her cigarette smoke and it is horrible. I feel your pain.
except at least you can get off the train.
Gross. Perfume over smoke is like just blocking someone’s esophagus.
At least you have a geniunely noticable (and manly) reaction. Your sneeze is evidence of your suffering. I don’t tend to sneeze so much as my throat just closes up. Ack! I work with someone who overpowders and I swear my throat closes the eff up! I can’t stand to be near her.
It’s so rude. I’d keep my distance, too. Powder would be so much worse.
Oh, you’re way nicer about it than I am with your manly sneeze.
My general response is something like, “OH MY GOD I CAN TASTE SOMEONE’S COLOGNE/PERFUME AND NOW I WISH I WAS DEAD.” Loudly. In public.
That is my favorite kind of outburst. If you did that, and I was on the same train, I would applaud you.
Trying to decide which is worse, the perfume lady or b.o. guy…have to go with the perfume. At least b.o. usually doesn’t give your nose a chemical burn.
Another vote in favor of the “only your lover” platform. The scent should be like a memory of a half-forgotten dream. Just the slightest hint of sexy…
B.O. is better than bad perfume; usually. I agree. And your vote for the “only your lover” platform will be counted.
The most hilarious post I’ve read in a while! Thanks, I am bookmarking this blog!
Bookmark away!
Actual comment I once made somewhat innocently on the metro: “Wow, something smells like sewage! What? Oh, sorry, that’s your perfume?!?” (remove foot from mouth while watching the rest of the train break up laughing)
Haha. I would tell that story for years; to anyone who’d listen.
Don’t you wish everything could be like that? It reminds me of that “Annie Hall” scene where Woody Allen and Diane Keaton are waiting in line, and some guy is talking out of his ass. Did you ever see that? Hahha…he even brings the writer of the book the guy was talking about to set the guy straight. LOVE
I do. It makes me wonder about that new movie, The Invention of Lying. I so wonder what it would be like to just say what we’re thinking at all times.