previous  |  main  |  index  |  next
March 16, 2003

writer's stink

My Sure deodorant no longer affords protection from wetness and odor.  My armpits teem with odor-causing bacteria which, presumably, use no deodorant themselves.  I wonder why they bump one another so frequently. 

I try to buy a deodorant strong enough for a man, but made for a woman.  The checkout clerk with cat-eye glasses cards me and confirms my maleness.  The vest-wearing manager orders my return to the hygiene aisle for a lawful selection.  I choose a roll-on strong enough for a man, but made for a eunuch.  The checkout lady winks and rings me up.

©  2003 by the beastmaster