Monday, June 09, 2008


So there I was on Friday - yearning to be home and with my sweet husband and pooch and away from the city where I had to wear Man Pants - so I changed my flight to an earlier time and off to the airport I went. I checked in through the obligatory machine, waited in the line for the bag tag, pretty much stripped to my skivvies for security and then sat my ass at the gate to wait for my flight.

It's called and I think to myself that I am headed home - YIPEEEEE! I march to my seat - 17D, an aisle and close to the front of the plane - SO HAPPY. I sit down and am immediatly overcome by an odour - of unwashed person. I discreetly sniff under my arms and can determine that it is not me, there is no one across the aisle from me so it must be the man in 17F - the window seat. Mother-of-pearl that smell is bad - so bad that I move my nose into my shirt so that I can smell the fabric softener I use instead of him. How can someone allow themselves to smell like this? How is such a smell possible? Can he not smell himself? Was he traumatized by Psycho as a child and now can no longer step into a shower without the immenient fear of death? These are the questions that are running through my mind when I realize that I must endure this heinous smell for 4 long, torturous hours. I have determined that God, she is really pissed at me for something I did.

A man comes and sits in the middle seat and I have a barrier betwixt me and the unwashed man. Halleujah!!! I can still smell him but it is fainter and blocked by the human taking the scent bullet for me - and for that I am eternally grateful to the man in 17E.

This ends my tale of business travel as I am home, safe from man pants and smelly men. It makes me want to click my heels together and say "There's no place like home!"

1 comment:

Muffy Willowbrook said...

Scent Bullet!!!