the bad smells

i've always wondered why lots of people (in certain situations) don't even acknowledge they exist. the bad smells, i mean. to illustrate, let's look at three situations:

I. you walk into an enclosed space (eg, an airconditioned room, an elevator, a closet) with only one other person in it and you get hit by the huge ripe smell of Fart. what do you do?

a) make horrible strangling noises in your throat then stagger out
b) close your mouth, hold your breath for as long as you can, and do what you have to do FAST and LEAVE before you pass out from oxygen deprivation
c) light a stick of lavender incense and wave it around the other person while mumbling incantations in pig latin

II. you're on a jeep, stuck in traffic near a particular triangular island somewhere between philcoa and UP diliman. it's almost noon and the blazing sun overhead has caused volatile molecules to detach from mounds of brown stuff deposited there earlier that morning by people who live in boxes with zero plumbing. said brown stuff has been baking under the sun for almost six hours now. you remember that in order for you to smell this particular Bad Smell, said volatile molecules must waft through the air and make their dainty way up your nasal passage this fine lovely morning. what do you do?

a) look accusingly at the conyo colegiala currently slumming her way into the UP campus by sitting next to you on the jeep. when she feels adequately creeped out, you take out a fork you had tucked into your baunan for a vegan pasta lunch prepared by your sister and proceed to methodically stab your left eyeball with the tines
b) you hold your breath and die of asphyxiation while waiting for the jeep to crawl away from the island heaped with mounds of brown stuff
c) take out a your handy dandy bottle of pagoda cold wave lotion and hold it under your nose. you know the harsh chemical-y smell can cut through any yucky organic smell anytime. you keep a tissue on hand for the inevitable nosebleed. you dab gently at your right nostril

III. it's a rainy sunday night, almost 10 pm and you have no umbrella. you've been waiting two (2!!!) frickin hours outside frickin robinson's galleria after church for a taxi driven by a driver willing to leave the ortigas business district for the boondocks known as quezon city. you ignore the beat up geminis and the tiny clunkers that are kia prides because you're not THAT desperate to get home. finally a nice shiny new taxi with mag wheels and a spoiler glides to stop in front of you and yes, the old gentleman behind the wheel does not haggle or do any of the heinous things most cabbies in this country tend to inflict on innocent commuters. however, the fuzzy upholstery positively reeks like something had died on it and you realize the smell is coming from the guy behind the wheel. you know the smell will stick to your clothes, your hair, even the lining of your three-thousand-peso leather handbag from fino. the radio is tuned in to a popular religious program vilifying protestants and their quote fear of suffering unquote and The Smelly One gently touches the crucifix of the rosary hanging from the rearview mirror and he makes the sign of the cross as the cab exits to EDSA in recognition of the shrine set up in recognition of the miracle that happened 19 years previous called people power. what do you do?

a) you say, "mamâ, stop! ang kiyoho niyo naman!" and then you get off and take the bus home
b) you take out a tin of green tea solid perfume by l'occitane and you hold it under your nose from galle to the tiny street called misamis perpendicular to edsa between the main building of sm north and annex right before the pedestrian overpass. you make agreeing noises the whole time when the cabbie tries to draw you into the tired old spiritual debate of catholicism versus everyone else. you give him a twenty peso tip after you get off and breathe in a fresh lungful of air heavy with carbon monoxide, lead particulates, and tar
c) you pray to whatever higher power you believe in to either strike you dead or make you lose your ability to smell anything during the cab ride to your house

note that this whole exercise has no educational value whatsoever. i mean, i couldn't even be bothered to capitalize! but it was kinda sorta fun, no? heh heh. yeh.