Wash Your Pits Man

Funk-o-rama.

There comes a time when, although we wish we did not have to say mean things about people, we must accept some things are undeniable. I try not to be shallow, I try not to judge, and most of the time that is pretty easy. Sometimes when I am about to utter something like, "oh my Gosh, look at that lady's hair," I stop myself and decide it would be more classy to keep those kinds of criticisms to myself.

Today I found standing on my own principles a little difficult. My brother and I innocently pulled into a convenience store downtown, the man behind the counter was wearing a turban on his head. Being the observant one my brother said, "oh my gosh, look at his hat." I said, "I know." My brother then went into the store, I waited in the car, and I'm very thankful now that I did.

When my brother came out of the store he had a strange look on his face, sort of like a child who just tried liver for the first time. He got in the car and said, "oh my gosh, I'm so glad you didn't go in there, you would have puked on the counter, that guy smelled like arm pits really bad." I'm sure my brother was right, he remembered me recounting my short stint as a cashier at a little mini-p.x. years ago. I was pregnant at the time, and a battalion of Marines came in from a two week jaunt in the field, of course they did not smell their very best at the time, and as I stood there ringing up their sodas, sunglasses and sunscreen, my stomach lurched into my throat. Luckily, my supervisor realized that those types of smells can be very nauseating to a pregnant woman, and relieved me from the register. Nevertheless, I gagged as I retold the story to my brother 10 years later.

Actually I do have a pretty sturdy constitution, but for some reason, the odor of sweaty armpits causes me to wretch. And according to my brother, the smell was much more than just pits, it was what he described as dirty cock and balls. Not only that, he went even further to say, "it smelled like the guy hadn't taken a bath for a month, and had packed his armpits with sardines and onions." Now, I really do hate to be unkind, but I must say this is just too much to fathom. However, my brother's face on the ride home told the real story, he had this look of pure terror and disgust on his face. Which of course made me laugh hysterically.

People, wash your pits okay? Imagine if that had been a taxi driver in New York or something, I'm pretty sure I would have got in and asked to be dropped off at the next corner. Use deodorant, it is your friend. You really do smell without it.