Malodorous Stupidity

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.


7 Responses to “Malodorous Stupidity”

  1. Jennifer says:

    Ah, yes. This same thing happened to me on Saturday. The girls and I were walking to our car in the shopping center parking lot when a “fragrance” wafted our way from a woman putting her purchases in the trunk of her car. Now, I love perfume and I smell good, but this scent was so strong, it nauseated me. I said something about it to my daughter and a nearly identical comment came out of her mouth at the same time! I read recently that if someone NOT within two feet of you can smell your scent, you’re wearing too much.

  2. Tom says:

    that’s actually an exceptionally logical way of thinking about it. but i wonder how he feels about it. i mean, his clothes must begin to smell like her. i wonder if he ever gets attention from women asking him what scent he’s wearing?

    p.s. did i mention that i’ve switched blogs? i’m now over at wordpress under my old blogging name burntmaze. i quite like the new environment actually 😉

  3. dawn says:

    Ahhh… the wonders of cheap perfume.
    I once stood in a lineup with my daughter to have her photo with Santa. My eyes watered and I sneezed until my makeup was completely washed away and all because of the cheap perfume lady in front of me…

  4. Agreed. The worst is being trapped in an elevator with someone who is just absolutely dominating the smellosphere with their obscene amounts of cologne/perfume. One particular morning I got kicked in the face as I walked into the elevator by a perfume stench. I fought through it and eventually got the bottom and left for work. Nine hours later, I returned from work and happened to get on the same elevator. That elevator STILL reeked of the SAME perfume.

  5. dawn says:

    PS… I left an award for you today… totally optional with no obligations to pass it on!

  6. Julianne says:

    She might want to reconsider her tactics. Caesar might be repelled by her overwhelming scent and add roving hands to his roving eyes.

  7. Keli says:

    Moderation in all things, including perfume is a good idea!
    Thank you! But this guy was too busy being a Caesar to think about the odor of his clothes. I’m certain he didn’t even notice.
    I think it is cheap perfume that wafts so profoundly! I have the same reaction!
    Don’t get me started on elevator entrapment. It is obscene! It’s a wonder you got out of there intact.
    I agree, but I think the stench had affected her head to the degree that she was unable to reconsider anything.

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