I can smell you from across the room as soon as you open the door. When you come up to the counter, I’m sorry I can’t provide you with my usual top-notch customer service, but I’m too busy choking on whatever the shit is that you submerge yourself in. It makes me instantly dizzy. I try breathing through my mouth but it turns my stomach. I can feel it coat my fucking tongue. I don’t care if what you wear is $250/bottle, or if it’s 100% all natural hand pressed essential oils of some rare Amazonian blossom, or if it’s the purest vaginal secretions of the last living fucking unicorn, it makes me seriously sick. Maybe you’ve lost your olfactory sense and honestly don’t know why birds fall from the sky and insects die around you everywhere you go. Maybe you’re afraid you won’t be noticed, maybe you’re starved for attention and the only way you know you can get it is to drown everyone in the room with the presence of your sickly perfume stink. However afraid you might be, for whatever reason, of your natural body odor, it cannot be worse than the shit you subject me to daily. Next time you go out in public maybe try leaving the bath of eternal stench in the bottle at home. Go for some subtlety, maybe just some deodorant if you need to, a lightly scented lotion perhaps. Without the stomach-wrenching cloud of artificial stank that surrounds you, you might actually be attractive.