What should one say?

I was doing the laundry today, again... yeah, I do that once a fortnight - on Mondays. And, something happened today that isn't so easy to talk about... at least, not with the person it concerns. It got me thinking though, as I've encountered this a couple of times in recently...

It is nearing the end of my laundry, everything is washed, and I am mostly just drying clothes and folding them up nicely. Since we have a basement laundry room where I live, I hear someone slowly shuffling their feet along the corridor leading up to where I am. Had I not known better, I would probably have been scared shitless, thinking an actual zombie was headed my way - that is what the footsteps sounded like.

Of course, I knew exactly who those feet belonged to - long before I had to see who it was. See... I have this neighbor - he's an 80+ year old dude, and he walks in slow motion. Frankly - the guy is rather fit for his age, but he does have this kind of bent over walk, in which his feet never seem to actually become airborne - they are just slowly dragged along the floor as he makes his way forward. I imagine it must've taken him about 15 minutes to get from his apartment down to the laundry room.

I step outside, and there he is, finally having stopped by the board. We use sort of a button to book time in the laundry room, and he's browsing the board looking for available slots.

"Hey, there Old Buddy". I actually used his real name - but "Old Buddy" is what I'll call him here.

"Hello...", he continues to look at the board. "I haven't been down here for a very long time"

"No?", I say.

"I just wash my underwear in the bathroom sink".

This is when I start to really notice that the guy smells... actually he reeks. I don't know - did he lose control of his bladder... like three days ago... and hadn't noticed yet?

Now, I don't want to bad mouth the old guy or anything. He's a very nice guy, and I've spoken to him several times running into him in the stairway. This is a new smell that I haven't noticed about him before. And... it is unbearable. You know... the kind of smell that reaches into your nose and turn your nosehairs into little prickly needles.

Now, I can't just tell the old fella he reeks, can I? So, what can you do? Well... I did what I think most people would do... shut up about it, and try to stay as far away from him as possible.

He finally decides on a day to do his laundry and parks his laundry button in the correct slot - after a little guidance by me.

And... then he walks into the laundry room itself. Pulls out a chair, and sits down.

"I'll sit down here with you for a while. You don't mind, do you?"

Aaaw, Jesus Christ. Yes I mind! You stink!

"No, that's ok", I say instead.

"I don't have anybody to talk to very often, you know".

I feel genuinely sorry for the guy. He starts telling me of how three wives of his passed away. First one had a heart attack, second one had cancer, third one died of "some other disease"... don't know what that may be. I've heard the story a few times before. It seems to be his ice-breaker. He does recognize me as his neighbor, but he never remembers my name and obviously he doesn't remember having told this story a few times either. He does remember at all times that I sell furniture for a living. And that is what he will talk about after having told me of his deceased wives. And, of all the other women he has courted on the dance floor.

After about 20 minutes or so, the old man finally decides it is time to head back upstairs to his apartment... and it is yet another 15 minutes before that stench is gone. Can you believe that? How that horrid smell would just linger for fifteen minutes?

Now... like I've hinted at. I can understand an old man like him not smelling all peachy at all times. It is a sad thing actually, and I wouldn't want to tell him anything about it. But, the whole experience today got me thinking about a conversation we had at work last week.

We have this temporary worker. She comes in every Tuesday and does some little things, like vacuuming and restocking the shelves. This is a rather young girl, I think about 23 or there about. She walks around in a cloud of sweaty stink at all times.

This is last Tuesday:

"Is she coming in today?", one of my co-workers asks our boss.

"Who?"

"The Tuesday girl", he explains.

"Yes, she is"

He moves uncomfortably in his chair. He's got something on his mind, and he wishes to get it off his chest.

"Uhm... I... I don't know... Should I tell her?"

"What?", I break in on the conversation.

"Didn't you notice? She stinks of sweat"

"Yeah, I did notice"

"I mean. I can't just walk up to her and tell her that she stinks, right?"

"No, that wouldn't be very nice"

"No... I know. But, someone should really say something. Maybe she doesn't know, you know?"

...and the conversation continued like that for another few sentences. In the end, we all agreed to keep our mouths shut about it.

But... really. What is the proper thing to do in these situations? Because, yes, they should really know so they can do something about it, right?

And... it worries me, you know. Because people don't say these things, that makes me worried. What if I smell? Would anyone have the guts to tell me that I stink if I did (do?)... because, I'd sure like to know so I could get the hell home and take a long shower, scrub myself clean and bathe myself in deodorant. Use a gallon of mouthwash or whatever is needed to come back smelling fresh like the summer breeze.

And... speaking of which. Tomorrow is Tuesday - so Tuesday Girl is going to be there again tomorrow... I will have to take a whiff to see if she decided to shower before work this week.