Sunny afternoon in DC as my cab passes the Washington monument. Uneventful passage through security, I am #39 on the upgrade list, better odds than Powerball, well not really. MORATZ luck strikes however, the only seat on a packed 757 that does not have an occupied middle seat. Nice.
Settled in, got my headphones ready to go. It was then I noticed an odd smell, at first a wisp of what I thought was burning rubber. Frightening. We were at 10,000 feet by then. I looked at my aisle partner to the right. Reading a book, the guy in a suit was oblivious.
Another deeper inhalation. And then it hit me.
Mad Dog was one of four other college housemates, early 70s. (I never knew his real name, Mr Dog was a very private person) MD was a true hippy, long hair, wire rim glasses ala John Lennon. Body grooming and hygiene were optional, often camouflaged by a bit of weed. And then it hit me. One of my fellow passengers in front of me had the distinct and unmistakeable scent of Mad Dog BO. Sweet mother make me sleepy.
1 comment:
Smells like the H2O bills we are soon to get in our mailboxes.
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