Ack. I finally met a sales rep with whom I’ve previously only had telephone and web conferences. He was a real piece of work, lemme tell ya.
Anyway, he shook my hand, complete with the second hand enclosure wherein my hand was trapped between his two paws for much longer than I would have liked. He also did that thing where he pulled me in for this kind of half-hug so that my face was kind of mushed up against his chest and my body was crushed between his huge arm and his side.
As if being touched wasn’t bad enough, this guy was swimming in cologne. Admittedly, it wasn’t offensive as it could have been, but still. I sure as shit don’t want to smell like him all day. I’ve got to buy a new top. Luckily for me, my office building is attached to a mall. Unfortunately, the stores don’t open until ten. So for about a half hour, I’m going to be sitting here making myself gag every few minutes.
He hugged you? Maybe it’s because I lack the requisite boobs, but I’ve never had a sales rep hug me–even da pretty goils. Does this happen to you a lot; and if I became a sales rep, could I get away with it?
In the future, a simple knee to the groin and a sharp elbow to the nose as the victim is bending forward, generally sends the clear message that your presonal space boundaries are not to be crossed without permission.
We have a salesman on our crew who weighs in at about 350, and looks every ounce of it. He likes the girls. He likes touching female customers and female employees. A lot. He thinks he’s a ladykiller. So do I, but not in a romantic way. My wife says if he puts a finger on her, he’s going to sing soprano for the rest of his life, and she doesn’t mean like Corrado.
A well-meaning friend sent me a very expensive cashmire sweater they no longer wear (he got fat and it doesn’t fit anymore) and I looked at the package when I opened it and said, “wow, that’s nice.”
Then I took the sweater out of the package and almost passed out. I think the cologne is Davidoff or something…
I put the sweater on the patio in the backyard. It took over a week - seriously - to air the crapidoff out of that sweater.
The good news is we haven’t seen a living insect in our backyard since.
Now and then I get secondary “cologne of death” on my hands when I fill up the car in the morning. Obviously, some lothario patted on some Sheik of Araby just prior to gassing up his car and I was the lucky one who came just after him. If I don’t realize it before getting back in the car, I then get the funk all over my steering wheel. It takes several handi-wipes to get rid of the stench, and I must dispose of them at the gas station or they will continue to stink up my car from the trash bag. Gah!
Does it work with moths and mosquitoes, too? I can’t enjoy summertime TV on the front porch because of these collective bastards. However, if I were to just open up a bottle of Davidoff, perhaps I can.
Do I have to get the actual name brand, or can I get the much cheaper"If you like Davidoff, you’ll love…" kind of colognes they sell at the auto parts store?
The first week of school and the week after winter break, teachers ought to be issued gas masks. I’ve had students smell so strongly of cologne it made my eyes water, from across the room, and the next three periods complain about the smell. UrbanChic, sniffing coffee beans is supposed to sort of reset your nose. Maybe there’s some coffee beans you can snuffle unless you’ve already changed…
Why on earth would men put cologne on their pants? If her nose is anywhere your pants, chances are good it’s in the bag and there’s no need to impress further. Men aren’t *that * smelly are they? I’ve never noticed anything at least.
