Stinky Ol' Ladies

Hello. Today's post discusses the topic of stinky old ladies.

Specifically, the two ladies who work at my day job. Not to name these individuals, but their names are Yolanda and Judy.

Now, when I say these ladies stink, you may surmise that they have B.O. from being unwashed, or have noxious effluvia from under-attentive lavatory habits. No.

No, no, no.

These ladies stink to high heaven of perfume. Not an expensive perfume, I'm sure, just a K-Mart type "Eau de Old Broad" that brings to mind thoughts of nursing homes, broken hips, and Depends. A cloyingly sweet smell that only certain highly sensitive and neurotic individuals like me can detect.

I go around asking people "Do you smell Yolanda? Is that Judy? Can you smell them?" Most people sadly shake their heads at me and move away, smiling politely.

But, as I said, there are some of us in this company that have a highly over-developed sense of propriety that, like Milton in "Office Space", makes us feel resentful if our boundaries are crossed. ( "But I'm allowed to play the radio at a resonable level from nine til eleven...") And these old bats cross my olfactory boundries by slapping on gallons of this putrid stink-water! Sometimes I gag!

Luckily, I don't work near either of these two stinkeroos, but when they mosey into my department, sometimes together, you could swear your dead aunt had come back to life and was stalking you.

I swear, it's getting so I'm thinking about not having those lunchtime cunnilingus sessions with them, or the boss' mother. Geeze.