“Yeah, I really do need to save that for…” you can’t think of any reason you’d actually need the day. Except a hangover worse than this one, which you can’t even bear to imagine. “… later. I’ll be in soon.”
You look over at the clock and realize that because of your attempt to play hooky from work, you’re now running seriously late.
There’s no time for a shower; you’re just going to have to use that Axe hanging out at the back of the bathroom medicine cabinet—how did you even inherit that in the first place?—and hope your sweat doesn’t smell too much like vodka.
You grab some cleanish-looking clothes from the floor and put them on.
You grab the can of “Anarchy For Him”-scented Axe and start spraying the entire 6-foot radius around you… but nothing happens. Even you can smell the clammy, processed-alcohol scent already creeping out of your pores.
Now you’re even later. Frantic, you dig through the cupboard under the bathroom sink for something—anything—to cover the smell of your shame.
You come up with a mostly-empty bottle of your ex-roommate’s perfume and a can of Glade air freshener.
The air freshener somehow seems like the better choice. That roommate was a hippie.
Spraying a massive cloud, you twirl through it and run out the door to catch a cab.
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