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Bus Story: Olfactory Smackdown

April 1, 2010

We are just sitting here, my fellow riders and I.  We didn’t step aboard the ole 54 this morning expecting to be in the midst of a battle.  But sometimes life tosses the weirdest curveballs and we just have to avoid getting beaned.  This particular curveball boarded in the forms of two very different women: one highly styled, with a fancy- schmancy coat and a hair style that the Shear Genius judges would love; the other looks like a drowned muskrat, complete with an unfortunate overbite and beady eyes.  Fancy Coif boards first and the front of the bus recoils, visibly.  She must have bathed in her perfume rather than water.  It made my eyes water.  We barely recover from the first salvo, and The Muskrat, running at ramming-speed leaps aboard.  She, too, is drenched in some horrid patchouli-esque smell. It’s almost more than we can take.  I expected to see my fellow riders gasping for air, struggling to get off the bus, trying to carry others who are too debilitated as they cry, “for God’s sake, get out…leave us, RUN!”  But we all breathed through our mouths for a bit and survived.  Curveball dodged, but I think I need to inhale about a pound of coffee grounds to get the smell out of my nose.

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