There are countless ways with which a guy can quantify a prospective mate. Intelligence, height, weight, facial beauty, booty/breast size shape and firmness, vocal timbre, sexual proficiency. The list is virtually endless. But today I want to talk about the stink factor.
Everybody stinks at one point or another. But some people stink a little (or a lot) more than others. I’m not a stinky guy. But I distinctly recall removing my khakis to take a shower during my stay at MDC and marveling at the stench I was emitting – thanks to no deodorant.
I digress. I’m mostly done talking about the Tombs. The subject of today’s observations come courtesy of two women. The first was a prospective girlfriend. We had a few things going for us. But the stink factor, while not quite (but close) a dealbreaker, was in full effect. Mind you, it wasn’t the woman’s fault. She was just a stinker. In fact, I could gauge her sexual arousal by the smell. When I got a waft, I knew it was on. True gentleman that I can occasionally be, I never said a word, figuring I should accept her for who and what she is – taking the good and bad in a package. That flirtation imploded recently when her borderline personality disorder reared its ugly head in a most unattractive manner, at which point the stink factor helped me move on emotionally. Whatever trouble I had dealing with the issue became moot.
Back in my music days, I played several recording sessions with an extremely talented bass player named Norbert. Everybody loved Norbert. But we would snicker at the way he stank. We all knew that when the track got hot and Norbert was really popping and thumping his instrument, he’d start stinking to high heaven. When the music aroused Norbert, his body reacted exactly as my old flirtation’s does when the sex aroused her.
I digress again. On to the aforementioned woman #2. Down at the church, we get a grab bag of volunteers. Some come via youth groups hailing from many states away. Others are corporate volunteers who swarm in to do a good deed and then take a photo to document their contribution to the community. And others come from a phone app called “Deed” (I assume short for good deed). The Deed people are the most interesting and diverse, as the group consists of anybody inclined to use a smartphone to find volunteer opportunities. And sometimes, the Deed people can be attractive physical specimens.
One who shows a couple of times a week is a very pretty biracial girl with the thick, muscular body of a runner (which she is). While I find her totally worthy, she shows zero signs of any attraction to me. This comes as no shock to yours truly. Were I 25, I don’t think her attitude would be any different. And at 68, the odds are just that much longer.
Well anyway…I’m very careful not to leer at her or say or do anything that might offend. After all, she’s there to volunteer – and not to get crashed on by an old man. The temperature in the pantry room tends to be a little warm. And yesterday, I caught a nasty whiff of somebody in dire need of a shower. The funny thing was, on the half dozen or so times I caught that whiff, this girl was in the general vicinity! Here I thought it was one of the “clients,” when in fact, it was this cute girl!
There’s nothing dirty-looking about this girl. And I assume she showers regularly and all that. I don’t know. Maybe she’d just come from the gym and didn’t have the time to clean up after the workout. I’d like to think that was the explanation for her fragrance. But more than likely, she’s just a stinker. What are ya gonna do?
A long time ago, I worked in an office (well it was the office of a taxi publication…so it wasn’t the kind of office you’d picture) with one of the stinkiest dudes ever as part of the boss’s entourage. Warren had a girlfriend who as coincidence had it, was eventually revealed to me (by her peers) as the stinkiest advertiser in Action Magazine. Forget the coincidence. The point is that one stinker finds another – and then they live happily ever after in some sort of olfactory haze.