There is a reason not one single solitary fragrance manufacturer has ever (emphasis on EVER) thought about introducing StinkyBoySweat as the Scent of the Season.
They’ve used vanilla, bergamot, ylang ylang, wild orange, and a host of other things tantalizing to the nose. But not StinkyBoySweat.
In fact, the IFRA (the International Fragrance Association – there really is such a thing) does not even list StinkyBoySweat on its ingredient list (I checked).
When you look up StinkyBoySweat, you find that its chemical ingredients include snips and snails and puppydog tails (extra points if you get the reference) with a skull and crossbones and rotting football next to the description. And a warning in big, bold, blue letters which reads: Do not allow to come into contact with skin, clothing, small mammals, or (for that matter) any living thing. May singe nose hairs. Will paralyze sense of smell for up to 18 hours. May cause you to wish your sense of smell gone forever. Side effects include loss of friends, loss of hair, and loss of consciousness.
Pi and I went to the gym yesterday. When we went over to the mats, my nose rebelled.
Me: I smell StinkyBoySweat.
Pi: I don’t smell anything.
Me: It’s definitely StinkyBoySweat.
Pi: You haven’t smelled StinkyBoySweat until you’ve been in a football huddle.
I had to concede that one. I’ve walked by hordes of football players after a game and almost passed out.
I’ve had unwashed hockey players in my car (the cost of fumigation was more than your college tuition), but apparently more is more when it comes to BoyStink.
I don’t know where rugby ranks on the Stank Scale.
What I do know is that all those who work with people dripping with StinkyBoySweat have much stronger internal fortitude than I do. Or perhaps a less developed sense of smell.
Thank heaven for soap and showers.