Wednesday, March 07, 2007

Dr Stinky Tests My Limits

I have a high tolerance for discomfort, especially when it's based on the senses. I can listen to annoying repetitive noises. I can eat ultra hot spicy foods. I can endure the smells from my sons' bathroom. I can stare at ugly people.

This morning my limits were tested by a medical student in his late 20's.

Two stops before I get on the trolley is an Apartment Complex that is mostly filled with Medical Doctors and their families doing their Residencies. They like the area for it's good schools and rail access to Philadelphia Hospitals.

I sat next to a nicely dressed man who was studying what appeared to be Calculus. His pages were covered with Mathematical Symbols and his lips were moving slightly like he was memorizing for a test.

I had been standing on the platform in 15 degree weather and was happy to be indoors.

Within moments of thawing, my eyes began to tear. I breathed deeply, and coughed. Something stunk, and bad. It was a combination of armpit and onion. The biggest, most acidic, most spoiled gooddamned onion on this planet.

I turned my head slowly to determine the smells origin, and confirmed it was the studious son of a bitch next to me. Everytime he moved to turn a page a new wave of olfactory terrorism struck me.

Most people would leave or vomit. Some would do both. I was intrigued how this man was immune to odor and wondered if he had some sort of mutant gene that produced such a smell.

Once while bicycling accross country, we came accross another biker who would join our group for a few days. He had picked up a Parasite in South America that caused him to have the most unearthly farts. I was the only person capable of sharing a tent with him. Nice guy though.


I tried again and again to listen to my ipod, but the smell was almost chemical, and began to burn my throat. My eyes darted to the exit doors. I wondered how his papers did not burst into flame.

This Doctor breaks the first part of the Hippocratic Oath just by standing next to a patient. He's going to kill more people than he cures.

Please someone help me...help me....

My throat is still burning!

7 comments:

d.K. said...

This is burst out laughing funny!
I buy a cup of coffee at a little "Stop and Rob" every morning before work. It is run by a nice, elderly Korean couple. They obviously eat lots of Chimchee (sp) over the weekend, because Monday mornings, it's all I can do to make it through the pay line. The odor must be literally coming out of their pores. Still, not as grotesque as the experience you describe. Thanks for that hilariously well-written story!

steakbellie said...

it was a very intense experience, I felt it in my throat and lungs for about 2 hours afterwards. How does this man survive???

katrocket said...

...by absorbing the sweet smell of you, and converting it to oxygen.

Dave S. said...

And you just had to endure a few minutes with him on the trolley. Imagine what his classmates have to endure. There's no way he could smell like that all the time. Someone would surely have had to say something to him by now.

On a submarine in the Navy we had ways of dealing with guys who lacked hygiene. No blanket parties ala Full Metal Jacket...we just left some soap and deodorant on their bunk and hope they got the hint. If that didn't work, the Chief of the Boat would have a few blunt words with them.

You'd think we wouldn't care about a little BO (and a little was okay), but in those cramped quarters, when you have to work or sleep a few inches from people for six hours at a time, it freaking matters.

Steak - I wonder if you could employ a similar tactic at the table in a contest. Imagine eating next to that guy for 10 minutes!

Wendy said...

This is hilarious. The writing is great - totally sucked me into the vortex here... Yikes. I don't how you sat there!

Chris the Hippie said...

You have an iPod? Are they as cool as they look on TV? Does it make you dance? Inquiring minds want to know...

Years ago I was late for work one fine summer day. I sprinted through the shower, grabbed some clothes (jeans, T-shirt, denim work shirt), ran the bike at 70 on back roads the 30 miles to work... It was about ten in the morning before I realized that the bad smell was ME. I'd assumed it was someone else... Turns out the cat had peed on my pile of denim work shirts. I didn't notice until I got to work as I was on a motorcycle going 70 miles per hour (that's about 115 Canadian)...

I remember distinctly NOT getting a raise that day.

steakbellie said...

Thanks!

Chris, I do have an ipod. I have the 'shuffle' no screen and just 1 button. You'd love it.