Malodorous Stupidity

May 26, 2008 by Keli.

There are those who intentionally transform themselves into human skunks subtly spraying all who cross their path with their malodorous scent. I refer to stupers (short, yet again, for uncommonly stupid persons) who drench, no submerge, themselves in vats of perfume, in my case, at six am on the local municipal golf course.

I caddied for Son this weekend in an adult-junior golf tournament. By caddie, I don’t mean I carried his golf bag whose weight equaled a Prius with a full tank of gas or that I gave sound golf advice (I’m afraid I only offer the unsound variety), but rather dutifully provided encouragement and support.

As I stood over the putting green at 6:18 am, I was suddenly overcome by an overwhelming odor; a repelling mix recalling that of shoe polish, tea tree oil and Handy Wipes. Somewhere along the way, the perfume stopped being a scent and became a stench. I never longed so profoundly for fresh air as I did that morning.

I followed the fumes and found the source: a thirty-something-year-old woman (G) sitting in a golf cart accompanying her boyfriend (B) who played in the tournament. As I got closer, my eyes began to water, my nostrils burned and my nose wrinkled. Don’t get me wrong. There were positives. One whiff wiped out an entire red ant colony on the fifth tee box. And I briefly considered marketing the stuff to revive victims of fainting spells.

Hours later and I could still smell it on my person. The only way to avoid it was to stand far, far away and upwind.

Once during the round, with nary a breeze in sight, I stood at a distance of one hundred yards from the offender and still, the odor found me or I found it; hard to tell which.

I coughed and observed G, trying to understand the need for such serious soaking. She appeared pleasant enough. Then B interrupted my pondering. I notice he bore a startling resemblance to Julius Caesar, without the toga. If B climbed atop a large rock and started spewing, “Friends, Romans, Countrymen…” no one would think twice. Particularly if he wore the toga and sported a garland of olive leaves around his head.

Then I understood. B had a roving eye (as Caesars are wont to do). While G sat in the cart, B swiveled his head back like a bird of prey to stare at passing female joggers in shorts. All other golfers golfed. B gawked. Obviously, G’s perfume deluge was her way of calling attention to herself and of reminding B (and all others) of her presence.

Back to perfume and cologne. Both should be worn as a scent; mild enough to be appreciated only by those up close and personal.

For those of us unwillingly subjected to fumes of the oxygen-depriving nature, we must step away until we smell it no longer. Preferably move to a grove of trees or green bushes to restore the lost oxygen. Also, making an effort to understand the source of the odor can lessen its impact, as it did for me.

Think before. Speak and act later.

Keli

Keli@counterfeithumans.com

Posted in Plain Old Fashioned Stupidity | 7 Comments »