next entryStinky Poo
There are plenty of things to make bath time more fun!
Ah... another un-eventful day for me. I go to work, I come home and absolutely nothing exciting happens in between. Well, ok, maybe the fact I got paid today was exciting but thats about it for the hours of 9am to 5pm.
Back home and all I do is wait around for Phil to come home, poor sausage is late again. So as a treat, and because we have no food in the house, we go out and get fish and chips from the local chippy.
Nothing spectacular about that, except when we walk into the chip shop it stinks. Like someone has walked in dog doo or something, but worse (combine the protein rich body waste and present humidity and you'll get the picture). Anyway, in my inevitable style I'm just about to say to Phil "Bloody hell it stinks of shit in here" when a sudden rush of "faux pas premonition" hits me rather strongly, so I bite my tongue. The reason for this? Well it appears that the source of the stench is in fact the rather large, sweaty dude who is first in the queue. How do I know this? No its not a matter of Sherlock Holmes intuition or detective skills... more to the point the quite obvious removal of the smell once the bloke has left.
The smell was that bad that there was in fact a clear radius of about 4 feet in any direction of the man who had the smelly problem. It was almost enough to put me off getting the fish and chips. What made things worse was the fact that he'd decided to slop his ample fat filled flesh over the counter whilst leaning on it waiting for his chips. To which I fell foul of when I realised I was touching said counter with my hands once he'd gone. Hmph.
I don't want people to assume I'm very prudish from what I've just written, but there are some things I can't abide. Poor personal hygiene is one of them.
Posted by Abi on the July 27, 2005 9:16 PM
I feel for the poor shop owner.
I am not prudish either butthat type of people is the reason why I never take vegetables from the pick-it-yourself section in the supermarket. You just don't know who has handled the vegetable.