It was last Monday afternoon and I boarded the 4:46 PM BART for my Writers' Class in Berkeley. I got on the train in Millbrae with just a few other people and easily got a seat. By the time we reached the Embarcadero Station, my car was filled to capacity. O the smell of humanity--especially in tight quarters! The man sitting next to me had some peculiar metallic odor emanating from his person. A young woman standing in front of me suddenly sat down on the floor and asked, "Am I OK here?"
"You're fine," I answered. Her skirt, slit to the hip, was riding up, exposing legs in tights and trendy suede boots. Fancy perfume wafted over from her direction, mixing with the odors of the other passengers. Just then, I remembered a TV commercial from my childhood: "Aren't you glad you use Dial? Don't you wish everybody did?" Yes, I am glad I do use Dial and would love it it everybody bathed daily and used deodorant. But I am wondering if, nonetheless, my own particular odor was being noticed by other passengers. Soon my North Berkeley stop arrived and I disembarked with the washed and unwashed masses and headed off to class.
