I am lead to believe that women are my kryptonite. However, I may as well be wrong. It may be the perfumes and body splashes that render me financially and romantically helpless. The thing is that most perfumes do a good job and smell exactly how you think that woman should. Of course I am completely ignoring anything Elizabeth Taylor has made that is grannywear.
There are certain moments that I am sure you ladies are aware of. One is the walk by. You saunder by and ooze sexy and confidence we see that. Then like a smack up the head for staring too long your scent lingers to us. To me the name of your perfume is how you would like to be treated or what is important to you. Heaven, Angel, Sweet, White Diamonds, No. 5.
As wonderful as many of the women in this society have been trained in their scent etiquette there are a few rank skanks that stick out. When a guy comes off as clueless all we need is to zip up the fly. Someone needs to intervene with the women that smell like they should be at bingo.
I walked into an elevator the other day and I was jumped with the horrific oder of some women's spray. It was so bad I was almost hoping for some guy to fart in there. Almost. When something like that is so pungant I would certainly hope you could realize that you are in too deep. Please tone down the perfume, unless you are needing that level of cover-up then please see a doctor or shower. I feel short changed if I am getting a headache from you and I have yet to hear you speak.