28: B-oh, oh, oh
My underwear were in an old ditty bag from my backpacking days, which infused them with the rather bad and strong smell of cheap plastic. In a moment of inspiration, wondering at my own excessive preparedness, I pulled out dryer sheets from my laundry supplies and stuffed one into my ditty bag and spread a few throughout my clothes. But I began to sicken at the smell of the dryer sheets, spicy and overwrought, which still didn’t cover the bad-rubber-chemical smells my clothes had acquired.
And then there was my lovely new green slip-on tennis shoes. I knew they might be a problem because they make my feet hot, and sure enough, by Tuesday evening, a foul case of foot odor was brewing. I’m not typically the foot odor type. Seriously. But I was starting to feel like the odor wafting up from the region of my ankles surrounded me in a pungent Linus-like cloud.
I felt like I was walking around with a mixture of cheap rubber, dryer-sheets, hint of “Firma Nail” and strong dose of foot odor. Very attractive, no doubt.