Poopie Pants

Normally, I can't stand it when I'm working out at the gym next to someone who has just bathed in perfume. Who are you trying to impress? We're all here to work up a sweat...so get over it. But today, while working out next to Mr. Poopie Pants, I wanted nothing more than a Drakkar Noir-soaked muscle head to start working the elliptical trainer on the other side of me. The scent wasn't constant; it came in shifts. I would catch a whiff, and then...nothing! Just when I think it's safe to take a deep breath and enjoy the Belle and Sabastian blaring through my headphones, it's baaaaack. I shot him a few confused looks, because at that point, I didn't know if it was him or the woman on the other side of him. But as the other gym-goers started to clear the area, I realized that I was right beside the problem. "What if they think it's me?", I wondered. Nah...I'm wearing clean gym clothes and I look cute. But he didn't look dirty or ugly either...just a normal guy..a normal smelly guy! Even after he finished his work out, his stench lingered for a few minutes. I told Robert I feared the smell was stuck up my nose, and he promptly offered me some Flonase, so I could "smell lilacs for the rest of the night".
Mr. Poopie Pants clearly had a problem. I'm not sure if he just hadn't showered in a few days, or if some horrible bedsore was starting to ooze, but I described the odor to Robert as a "mixture of pus and poop". Nasty.
So now I take back what I said about gym perfume wearers. If the perfume is masking some horrific smell, then spritz away. We all have a little B.O. now and then...but poopie pants is another story!