An Open Letter to the Kid Sitting Not Far Enough Away From Me

Dear Young Person Who Seems to Just Have Fallen Into a Pool of Axe And Most Probably Nearly Drowned So Has Not Yet Had The Time or Mind To Bathe- Or Not:

You may be forgiven for believing so much advertising that presents the great game of romance as little more than tit for tat and the smell of Axe Body Spray as a whole lot of tat. If your other senses are as dull as your olfactory and the amount of Axe you use is proportional to your desperation, I deeply sympathize and offer three bits of advice as constructive guidance:

First, you must find someone who loves you enough to tell you to not leave the house stinking like a gasoline-doused brothel.

Secondly, you need to know that the sudden turns of the head or twisted faces you encounter at every turn are not standard for everyone. Try using less spray and see if you notice that people's expressions have changed as you cross their path.

Thirdly, remove the base layer of Flaming Hot Cheetos residue and four weeks of dried football practice sweat before adding another scent to the mix. A simple rule to remember with deodorants and colognes: after shower, not instead of.

Of course I offer this advice knowing that I may be completely wrong; you should know that as well. As intensely repelled as I am by your smell, as wholly unappealing as you seem to me, that may be how attractive you are to the still-developing adolescent female brain. That said, the fact that you are still sitting here alone, frequently looking up at the girls who walk past your table but never stop suggests at least that Axe doesn't work the way it's advertised. My advice couldn't hurt.

For what it's worth-
skybalon