Personal hygiene is everyone's business

So today, Cookie was confronted by two indignities.  The first was being in the Towson, Maryland, Home Goods store, where things are supposed to be a bargain, but they are not.  I was looking for a toothbrush holder because toothbrush handles have become entirely too big around to fit in the holder that we have had for the last 20 years.

First, it was the fancy toothbrush heads, but somewhere along the way the geniuses that design this utilitarian tool they decided that the handles needed to be bigger.  "More" is, after all, MORE in consumer goods.  Our toothbrush handles are as fat now as Sharpie brand markers.  I shudder to think where we will be in twenty years. 

Anyhow, because there are few stores left in the middle, I looked at Target, Bed Bath and Beyond and not seeing anything to my liking I decided to schlep across Prince Avenue to HG, which is a fancier version of TJMaxx.  I found one, under seven dollars, and while its design is uninspiring, it is not offensive, either. 

Towson University is getting ready for its Fall term, and the students are back.  So a store like Home Goods is lousy with them. 

So I walk down the aisle to queue up for the cashier.  Thier is an odd, off-putting smell that is strengthening. It's not mass of candles, each fighting for the dominance in the scent department. It's not gift soaps, with their strange melange of scents - Truffle-Lemon, Cherry-Mint, Corriander-Bubble Gum. It's not sour, like puke.  Not ammonia-like bladder control issues.  It's not "loaded diaper", and by the way, there were no mother and infants about.  It was just off-putting.

And as I walked towards the next person, the odor became stronger, but it wasn't B.O., either. The person I am walking towards is a young woman, smallish, dressed in jeans that were too tight, appears to be a student.  So I walk up and stand about five feet behind, and WHAM, the odor hits me full on.  The woman seems oblivious and is starring at her phone, scrolling, tapping away no sign of anything amiss, and I am beginning to feel queasy.

In fact, the odor was so bad, I had to back up.  Way up.  And as I backed away the musky, earthy, slaughterhouse the day after butchering smell started to fade.

That's when it dawned on me what the smell was.  It was, what they used to call in 1950s advertising the "one unforgivable sin of un-daintiness."

That was when I stepped on another woman's foot.

"I apologize for not looking ma'am," I heard myself saying, "I think that I might have forgotten everything I came in for and I was not paying attention."  I looked into the racks of crap that Home Goods thinks you will think that you need (Twist Tie Collector: 'Never be without another twist tie again!') and then I said: "You go on in front of me while I look at these decorative wine stoppers!"

The woman smiled, worriedly, and advanced while I looked over my shoulder and back up a few more feet.  The line was not moving because there was one cashier and the back up was having a hard time getting his machine up.  The woman advanced to the denim-clad young woman and then turned around with an ugly look on her face. 

She smelled it too.

Another woman came up behind me and asked: "are you in line?" 

"Yes, but, go ahead of me - I just have this one item. You have a whole cart!"

She made it up to the next woman - the one I let go in front of me, who turned and said: "You go next, I want to look at that Halloween wreath over there."

As she passed me she screwed up her face and exhaled.   I saw her stick her face into the pumpkin spice scented wreath and take a deep inhale.

Finally, the line started to move and the young woman was called up.  A tall good-looking man started to asked her if she found everything then the expression on his face changed.  Her curse was visited upon his olfactory nerves. 

The woman with the cart was called up and sped past the young woman like a sprinter to the finish line.

Then it was my turn, but the young woman at the center of the storm finished up and we almost collided.  Thankfully I was holding my breath and made to my cashier.  The young man turned to my cashier with a "WTF was that all about"look, and my cashier shot him a "Not in front of the customers" type of shade.

We concluded the transaction, she said she hoped my experience was a pleasant one, I smiled and thanked her.

Outside, I breathed in the stench free air. 

Students come from all over, with all different background.  Maybe she was from a different culture.  Maybe her smelling skills were attuned to other things.  Maybe in her mind, I smelled like "red meat" - and I actually had a Korean Exchange student say that me back in high school.  Actually, she was saying that about everyone in the whole school.

Still, I can't help but think about that poor Mrs. J----, the one who never gets invited over a second time.  The one whose husband is drifting away from her.

I did come home and take a shower.  Oh, Hell, yas I did.

When my husband comes home, I want him to find me clean and handsome.