So I know that this has never happened to you, because you are perfect, but I haven't been wearing deodorant for two days. No, it wasn't because I didn't have any. I did buy some, at Target-the-most-awesome-store-in-the-world-and-how-do-they-get-it-to-smell-like-that?, but it was in the bag, in the car. I kept forgetting to grab it before heading into the gym. So I would be at the point in my grooming routine (who knew I groom? but it's true) where I would need to put on my deodorant and I would take out the empty Powder Fresh Ban container and roll it on and nothing would happen. Because it was empty. But I still did it. It's important to keep up appearances.
This morning was the morning that someone finally noticed. I mean, really, the kids at school aren't going to notice because they all smell anyway and are worried about their hair and their math homework. People at the gym smell too. But apparently, not as bad as I do. In BodyPump we start with a brief warm up and then the squat track. The squat track is a killer and also my favorite. I started sweating this morning during the squat track, as usual. (And I was wearing unwashed, but dry [and crusty], gym clothes- the same ones that I had worn to Tuesday's BodyPump. So the clothes already had a smell. I think its a kind of nice smell, familiar and summery and like the green film that covers a pond in the springtime. So I'm sweating, and the people on my left and on my right are slowly squatting away from me. The person behind me moved.
The next track is chest and then after that is the back track. Everyone is starting to mummer about a smell. One persons volunteers the idea that it must be the dumpster outside- except the windows aren't open. Someone in the back says that one of us must have stepped in dog poop, and looks at me accusingly. I can't smell anything, so I don't volunteer any guesses. At this point I don't even know that it's me. Then an old man passes out. The pregnant mom in the back is starting to gag. I start to smell something that vaguely reminds me of taco seasoning and curry and dead-marsh-smell, but I can't put my finger on where it is coming from. I look around, like everyone is doing, but there aren't any marshes in the gym that I know about.
By triceps, when I'm on my back on the mat and my head is by my armpits, I realize that it's me and my crusty clothes and my pretend deodorant. And I know why the villagers are starting to revolt. I stink and the smell is progressively getting worse as the room heats up. The smell is "cooking". As the triceps song ends, some of the moms are starting to eye me and take practice swings with their bars, cautiously advancing to my side of the room. The instructor has climbed atop her giant step (think step aerobics- we use them for lunges), turned the music off and points to me saying "IT'S YOU!". She climbs down and lights a torch. I look around for any possible exit. I'm kinda sad to be missing out on biceps because I totally rock at the set and I just increased my weight today, but I can tell that it will either be me dead on my mat and shoved in the corner, or me safe in the locker room, showering with my clothes on the get rid of the small as soon as possible.
I duck under grandpa, who was trying to take me from behind, shove the pregnant woman over and run out the back door, onto the track where I am trampled by a pack of cross country runners. I only have an arm fracture and a black eye.
(*Okay, so I totally hyperbolized the above story. But the majority of it happened the way that I said. Except for maybe the torches.)
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