A Smell for All Seasons

Sitting in a sweaty office for hours is never pleasant at the best of times. The pungent scent of body odour, mouldy cheese and rotten vegetables grinds anyone down after a few minutes but occasionally, amidst these foul and odorous creatures, triumphs a new kind of threat. This is not the crisp winter air or the odourless yellow snow, nor is it the smell of homeless snowmen searching for food. No, I'm talking about a scent so strong it will kill other known germs dead like Dettol or Domestos or whatever. But this is perhaps one of the strangest and suspicious smells one can encounter at work. A woman's perfume. Not just any kind of perfume but one seriously sickly-sweet fragrance that instantly launches a full scale assault on all surrounding nostrils. No nostril is safe from the sweet scent. Its suffocating tentacles weave around obstructing pillars and drift up into the air conditioning to ensure it targets as many unsuspecting noses as possible. Its deadly effect reaches its peak almost instantly.

Nasal entities are terrorised into confusion to the point where they don't know if they want to inhale one more the sweet poison or rip itself from the inside of its warm nose and make a run for it. Some feel the only cure is to run. The nose that is, not you, don't go running anywhere. Lop off your nose and throw it as far as you can in the hope it will bring help and salvation for the fortunate few that will become rapidly traumatised in lieu of freedom. Of course the other more sensible option is to stop breathing, oh wait, I said, 'sensible'. Then put a peg on it. Even better, if you enjoy the scent, basque in the sweet aroma, but try not to overdose or you may never again be able to indulge in smelly delights. You may also not be able to smell your dinner tonight. Though for some, this may be a blessing...

Asthmatic Scooter

I was walking down the road the other day when I heard something chugging along. Naturally I looked up, only to see the inevitable, a small snail mobile hurtling towards me at what seemed like an astounding 5 miles per hour. Bloody scooter! Why do they have to make so much noise? They sound as though they're fitted with an asthmatic engine *pant*. If I was riding one of those things I'd be worried in case it had an asthma attack.

I have mild asthma myself and when I was a kid I had a few asthma attacks, anyone that has had a similar experience of children with asthma will know it's not a pleasant experience. If I was on one of those breathing-impaired contraptions I'd be panicking who was going to conk out first me or the scooter. I'd be riding along trying to reassure it, everything's OK, deep breaths come on now, in, o-u-t, in, o-u-t, that's it, keep going, keep going, you're doing great!

Perish the thought of riding up a steep hill! Come on old girl you can do it, just keep moving, don't forget to breathe. BREATHE DAMNIT! Come on you can do it, only 2 more wheel rotations left, that's about 2 more hours but it's ok, just DON'T LOOK BACK! Of course that would be only half the battle and if by some miracle we made it to the to top we would both be lying by the side of the road coughing our insides out trying to inhale some fresh air and recover from the trauma.

You know how cars nowadays come with all those gadgets and accessories that are fitted "as standard"? Well scooters should come with Ventolin inhaler on a repeat prescription as standard and a warning sign of "Caution, scooter might break down on slightest incline" embedded on it's frame.