Loco motives

Last week I attended yet another technical training course. Much as I loathe and detest these things, they have become an unavoidable evil in the engineering industry – a bit like my boss, actually. The only thing I have learned from attending scores of courses over the years is that death really doesn’t seem so bad after all.

There were a couple of apple polishers sitting in the front row who just LOVED making pointless observations. They seemed to think that they were impressing everyone with their extensive insight into the subject matter+, but judging from the long-suffering sighs I heard every time either of them asked a ‘question’++, most of the attendees were heartily sick of both of them by the end of the course.

To make matters worse, one of the women had doused herself copiously in Eau de Catpiss. She appeared to believe that this somehow made her more alluring, but in truth, the stench was so powerful that she would have been able to out-stink a flatulent camel with a bowel disease. I was afraid that the mucous membrane in my nose was going to melt. It left a bitter taste in the back of my throat and my nasal cavity shuddered in fear every time she walked into the lecture hall.

People, here’s a tip: if the varnish on a table starts to bubble and smoke when you walk past, then odds are that you’ve put on too much perfume.

+ In which case, what the fuck were they doing at the course in the first place?

++ i.e. “You know what I think…?”

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23 thoughts on “Loco motives

  1. Oh that was a good laugh! Thanks, Kykie.

    It reminded me of the time I flew down to squat at your place. Remember I told you about the chickie babe in the plane who doused herself whilst we were taxi-ing to the apron? The whole plane became a sickeningly sweet floral boutique!

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  2. “apple polishers” – what a beautifully succinct way of describing those particular warts on the backside of humanity! I’ll store that one up for future use at an appropriate moment…

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  3. Man, thats sucks to be stuck in a confined room with a woman who sleeps in a vat of badly fragranced formaldehyde, especially if its badly ventilated. But thats the downside – the positive in it is that outisde of stuffy lecture halls, you can get wind of them 500 metres away, giving you ample time to escape – thats come in handy with people you have to deal with on a daily basis.

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  4. Oh man – Eau de Catpiss. Apparently in some countries – like Mongolia – this reels the men in.

    Can’t back that up.

    But point taken. Does this mean I can’t spray my signature frangrance on my bra now? I know, it sounds dodgy, but it’s force of habit.

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  5. Adding grown-up brown-nosing to group behavioural problems, wow. Whoever came up with the idea of training on the workplace apparently had a few hang-ups he wanted addressed…

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  6. My neighbour uses so much eau de toilette that I can smell it when I walk past his flat and I know when he’s been in the lift recently. THAT is too much. Unless of course it was Axe…and he was straight…and maybe then I’d know my neighbour a bit better.

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  7. marissa: I give thanks that my suffering is but an occasional thing.

    katt: I’m sure that’s banned by the Geneva Convention.

    andy: I have other colourful ways of describing them, if you’re interested.

    triggermap: Unless they sneak up on you from downwind.

    peas: The only solution is to ditch the bra. Yup. That’ll work.

    anne: More than a few, I would say.

    moonflake: Or douse yourself with water. That will work in both cases, if you aren’t sure.

    shortypam: I was thinking along the lines of a full biohazard suit, but that might be a bit over the top.

    champagne heathen: That amount of stink is starting to cross the line between ‘personal hygiene’ and ‘aggravated assault’.

    jam: Another reason not to give up smoking.

    chitty: Sycophants produce the grease that oils the wheels of corporate policy.

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  8. How ghastly!
    Now I can’t help but wonder what catwoman looked like..obviously she has lost her own sense of smell from her years of aroma therapy. Next time get a bucket of Hai Karate at the whatnotshop and fight fire with fire!

    Plus you need to sit next to those little arsholes in the front row and put on your best psychotic glare…. You could crazy glue their slide rules, liberate their lunch money, step on their blackberries with your old Doc Martins and put your tazer on top of the desk every time they looked like they had something to add.

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  9. the tart: WordPress has issues…

    homo escapeons: Catwoman looked a bit like a Demi Moore wannabe, if you reversed a bus over Demi’s face a couple of times and left her locked in a room for several months with half a ton of cooking chocolate. I like your action plan. It should work.

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  10. Just a few months ago, it was tomatoes on oldman Kyk’s roof, now we have apple-polishers and cat’s piss – who would have thought there was something funny in such diverse things?

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  11. Perfume should be so subtle that it can obly be smelled by someone who is really close to you – not by the general hoi polloi. Some woman don’t realise that.

    Of course – here in France they are not generally stressed about taking a shower every day – they ‘bath’ themselves in a cover up coating of perfume!

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  12. There’s a woman who sits near me at work with the same problem. Worst part is she wears my favourite perfume… I can only hope it smells better on me than it does on her!

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  13. Aha! I’m free! The censor-IT people have let my machine out of its cage.

    Great post- by the way!

    Dont mind me, while I run a-muck (seriously sp?)on the comments pages of my favourite blogs while I can!

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  14. alan: What? You think I’m joking?

    geena: I definitely agree with you that scent should be subtle. Remind me not to take any trips to France in summer.

    terri: That’s progress for you. We’ve advanced so far, we now have artificial body odour.

    katie: I promise not to a-mock you while you run a-muck.

    revolving credit: There are some things you’re probably just better off not knowing. This is a good example.

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  15. Oh GAWD, there is a boy I know with the same affliction. He’s got the coke-nose equivalent of aftershave. He can’t use his nasal oriface, clearly, without pouring enough eau de stroh rum overhimself for self-immolation. Naaasty. We can smell him at 100 paces. Vicious. Evil.

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  16. the only reason i enjoyed going on courses or seminars of any kind was because it was a day out of the office and an opportunity to drink a beer with colleagues i hadn’t seen in forever!

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