Personal Hygiene
There comes a point at which your hygiene becomes less your problem and more everyone else's:
My old school nurse never seemed to wash - instead she wrapped herself in crepe bandages from the first aid kits. The smell was beyond pungent. If you got ill at school, it was better to suffer than try and explain symptoms whilst only breathing out.
When she was eventually 'let go',they had to strip the wallpaper in her office to get rid of the lingering odour.
How scuzzy have you got? Or, failing that, how bad have people you know got?
( , Thu 22 Mar 2007, 12:40)
There comes a point at which your hygiene becomes less your problem and more everyone else's:
My old school nurse never seemed to wash - instead she wrapped herself in crepe bandages from the first aid kits. The smell was beyond pungent. If you got ill at school, it was better to suffer than try and explain symptoms whilst only breathing out.
When she was eventually 'let go',they had to strip the wallpaper in her office to get rid of the lingering odour.
How scuzzy have you got? Or, failing that, how bad have people you know got?
( , Thu 22 Mar 2007, 12:40)
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SJM
When I worked in the Wolverhampton branch of GAME, we suffered from many a reeking customer. By far the worst though was a fellow we dubbed Smelly Janitor Man (SJM for short), his actual job being that of Public Toilet Cleaner.
He came in every day, would make bizarre death threats to us, would only buy the worst games and stank to high heaven. After suffering around 8 months of this, one day we positioned him in the centre of the shop and proceeded to hose him down with cans of air-freshener. Upon completing this decontamination ritual we solemnly intoned "Fuck off you moron and never come back."
"Don't worry, I won't" he grunted as he scuttled out of the shop.
He was back the next day.
( , Fri 23 Mar 2007, 12:31, Reply)
When I worked in the Wolverhampton branch of GAME, we suffered from many a reeking customer. By far the worst though was a fellow we dubbed Smelly Janitor Man (SJM for short), his actual job being that of Public Toilet Cleaner.
He came in every day, would make bizarre death threats to us, would only buy the worst games and stank to high heaven. After suffering around 8 months of this, one day we positioned him in the centre of the shop and proceeded to hose him down with cans of air-freshener. Upon completing this decontamination ritual we solemnly intoned "Fuck off you moron and never come back."
"Don't worry, I won't" he grunted as he scuttled out of the shop.
He was back the next day.
( , Fri 23 Mar 2007, 12:31, Reply)
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