Day 52 of the 100 Word Project
When it’s hotter than a ticket to see the touring production of Hamilton, smelling good is an exercise in futility.
I walk from an temperature-controlled house to a car with the A/C running at full blast. I park in a multi-story garage and walk maybe 30 yards into my workplace. Despite my best efforts to treat “outside” like the surface of an uninhabitable planet, I still arrive at my cubicle smelling like a bag of dying anchovies.
What are my options? Shower in the gym on the third floor? Nah, I’d rather keep my clothes on at work. Go back to my college days and forego a shower in favor of drenching myself in cheap aerosol deodorant? I tried that today. Or, do I adopt the path of least resistance (for me, anyway) and embrace the stink?
There are blog posts, and entire online communities, devoted to the “subtle art of not giving a fuck.” That’s all well and good when it comes to ignoring what people think of you. Opinions you can keep to yourself. Body odors? Not so much.
AXE baths it is. Wake me up when it’s October.