Thursday, September 3, 2009

My Right Armpit (soon to be a major motion picture)

This post is about my armpit, specifically my right armpit. You probably shouldn't read it but I am compelled to write it. File it with those posts by others that describe the time they produced a Guiness Book of World Record stool sample or how they broke their favorite coffee mug.

While on vacation, I forgot to put deodorant on. Given that I hadn't showered in 5 days because the campground had no shower, I was as ripe as a late August tomato falling from the vine, but that's not the story. If I sweat without antiperspirant coating the delicate skin of my armpit, I get this angry, raw rash as red as a late August tomato falling from the vine.

My armpits did not always react this way. When I was in high school antiperspirant made me break out. I was strictly a deodorant man for years and years. Suddenly, and without warning, my pits did a switcheroo, now I need antiperspirant to protect my skin from my own sweat.

The cure for this malady is to apply the antiperspirant to the angry rash. This results in blood curdling screaming as the alcohol in the stuff burns and sizzles. After a couple of days my armpits return to their normal state, soft as a late August toma a baby's armpit. Unfortunately, I ran out of antiperspirant before the healing completed and was forced to go shopping at a Target in Maine.

This Target was half empty. It had been ravished by "Back to School" shoppers. There was not a 3 subject spiral notebook to be found or, strangely, a tube of Old Spice High Endurance Original Scent Invisible Solid with aluminum zirconium trichlorohydrex. I was desperate so I grabbed what I thought was the next best thing, Old Spice High Endurance Pure Sport Scent Invisible Solid with aluminum zirconium trichlorohydrex.

I applied the new product to my armpits and everything seemed okay. The stinging brought the customary tears to my eyes, my luxurious pit hairs got all clumpy and sticky, I was good to go.

But the smell. It was different, weird, strong. I felt like I was walking in a cloud of cologne. I put it down to an unfamiliar scent and hoped that it would soon go unnoticed. I was wrong. Everytime I moved an arm, the friction and resulting increase in temperature would send an unwanted waft of "Pure Sport" up to my face. I was determined to stay the course and not spend another $3.49 until this invisible solid was worn down to the plastic plunger. Until last night.

I woke from a blissful sleep with the god awful sensation that Ted from work was lying next to me in my bed. Ted's not a bad guy. Older, his salt and pepper hair well-groomed, his clothes a little better than mine with buttons and collars, he's just not my type. I took a deep, calming breath full of "Pure Sport Scent" from my unfettered pits and realized a horrible realization. My pits smelled like Ted. Old Ted was a "Pure Sport Scent" man. I was screwed. I slept poorly the rest of the night, my pillow placed strategically over my ass protecting me from the possibility of Ted attack.

At lunch today, I will be forced to fork over the $3.49 for a tube of Old Spice High Endurance Original Scent Invisible Solid with aluminum zirconium trichlorohydrex.


  1. This article was the biggest waste of the five minutes it took to read it. I am sorely disappointed in your writing skill and sincerely hope you get your intestines ripped out by a North American Black Bear the next time you go on one of your homosexual camping trips with Ted, right after he rips your asshole apart with his throbbing, African American manhood. I regret very much that you hadn't died in your sleep the night before posting this. Fuck you, I hope you get mauled by a North American Black Bear, you cum guzzling, corn husker. Oh by the way your arm pits smell like shit.

  2. Mary,

    Thanks for the comment!

    Unfortunately, I'm going to have to fire your fine, African-American Black Bare Ass when I get to work on Monday.