Holy B.O.

Good Christ!! I just left a Seinfeld episode. I went to the can at work and the bathroom as a whole smelled fine (well as fine as a public bathroom with three stalls can smell). I went to the usual - the last stall - because it normally has the most t.p.

I must have been breathing out when I went in and locked the door, because the moment I breathed in, I was accosted by an OVERWHELMING odor of B.O. It was too late to leave so I had to endure. After a quick self-pit-check (not me) I spent the entire 20 seconds while I was in there trying to figure out how this smell arrived in the stall. Did some chic come in here and wipe her pits on the wall? Was her workout so intense this morning that her poo stinks of it? Did a construction worker misread the WOMEN sign on the door? It was all encompassing...I worried that I would smell of it when I left. I just might need a shower. No...I'm pretty sure I need one.

I'm sure the power of the smell is equal to its endurance - it is never leaving the stall walls. Seinfeld had to sell the car, and well, you just can't do that with the can...I'm never going in there again. Hello, handi-crapper!