TheBanyanTree: men stink

[Mike Pingleton]

Before some of you gals punch your fist in the air and give out a big
'YEAH!",
let me explain.
  I'm on the elliptical machine, trying to maintain my thirteen calorie per
minute burn, when a young fella gets on the next machine over. Being a young
fella, he's whirring along on that thing like a little bunny, raising up a
little breeze. The moving air carries something acrid, something burns my
nose. It's not male sweat, it's not deodorant, it's some kind of body spray.
The kind you see on TV being sprayed on lithe, muscular young forms, then in
the next second young girls spring out of the bushes to declare they want
his babies or die trying. It smells like Raid to me, though I'm sure it's
touted as Laid. Fortunately, he's a young bunny, and after ten minutes or so
he's done. I'm on the thirty five minute plan and I'm thankful not to have
that stink in my nose for the whole time.

 Later, I'm on the leg press, trying not to think about blowing out a knee
and huffing like a beached Humpback, when two other young fellas walk by.
They stink too, although it's a little different, some kind of musk that
trails after them. Invisible molecules of manliness. I'm annoyed. I didn't
come to the gym to impress the girls; why are you? Give it up, fellas;
there's a lot of muscle here, more than you have, and I doubt that your sexy
spray will tip things in your favor. The gals are here for their own
muscles, anyway. In all probability they'd prefer the scent of honest sweat,
methinks.

 Rarely do I walk by any woman and think 'phew!' Usually, you might catch
just a hint of something, a subtle little hint of a fragrance that crooks a
finger under your nose. Women generally get it; less is more. A little is
just enough, a little hook tugging at the corners of the brain. A melody,
rather than a power chord.


An electrician came into my workplace today, a mature individual, a few
short years from retirement. Thirty minutes after he left the air still
reeked with Old Spice. I know he's been around long enough to remember the
old BrylCreem jingle.


A little dab'll do ya, fellas. A little dab'll do ya.
 Mike