Monday, March 30, 2015

A RANT ANENT THE BRITISH SMELL

When I get on the bus to Marin on work days, my mind is often at its clearest, and I enjoy the ride. Except, of course, for tourists at subsequent stops who are trying to get to Marin, or the wharf, or the Mission District. Who are outraged that the fare costs money, no change is given, and existential issues won't be solved during this brief trip.

They take pains to inform the bus driver and his passengers that this is NOT how things are done in Europe or Indiana.


Being a long-time resident of San Francisco, I am not the nicest of persons. Most of us aren't; we live here. Please stop taking photos of our colourful habiliments and objets d'art, and PLEASE use the internet to find out the answers to life's great questions like where the bus to Blitzpah stops BEFORE crowding onto the vehicle in a panic.
We have a schedule to keep.


"OF COURSE THEY'RE DIRTY! THEY'RE FROM ENGLAND."


The best line heard in several days was uttered in connection with visitors from Great Britain, who were a wee bit frowsty. Being detail-oriented about odd things, I tried explaining to another person that because of the climate, a lack of central heating, and antiquated bathing facilities that oozed out the merest modicum of warm water when one wished to take a weekly bath, many people out in the countryside and even the smaller metropoles of Blighty were accustomed to "rough it", meaning that they sometimes overlooked the effect their haphazard hygiene might have on delicate Americans. I went into overmuch detail about rusty tin water heaters geared towards a more primitive time, and the rich robust odours of cow pastures, council flats, and tanneries, plus sewage systems built by the Victorians, who assumed that such a new-fangled refuse-conveyance would not catch on. Heck, I even speculated about pneumonia in winter as one swabbed the oxters with a damp cloth and stood there in one's birthday suit freezing testicles off left and right because the windows were wide open during a blizzard and the steam pipes were on the fritz again.

Many British houses were NOT built for comfort.
Laundry is an occasional luxury.
Beer gets spilled.

She cut my discourse short by snapping "of course they're dirty, they're from England!"

Though there is an element of truth to that statement, it's not entirely true. England is more culturally diverse than it was decades ago, and many of the newer ethnicities have daily bathing customs.
She was a cigar smoker, so she may not have realized that.
Cigar smokers are enormously dense at times.
Sometimes their own funk dominates.
It's like white noise.

This world would be a much better place if all cigar smokers and Europeans were forced to at the very least wash their faces on a regular basis. Five times a day would be a good start. Soap and water.
And all of Northern Europe should have effective central heating.
So you don't freeze your testicles off taking a bath.
Or catch pneumonia swabbing your oxters.


I am a pipe smoker living in San Francisco.
Consequently I am fastidious.
And I smell good.




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