Tag Archive: hygiene

Staying fresh

Yesterday, [a friend of mine] got a surprise in [his] email from HR, which has been the cause of much laughter over the past 24 hours. See, it’s been really hot and humid in Toronto as of late, and HR decided to give a gentle reminder that people should keep on top of being…um…not hygienically challenged.

The email included a few “Summer Tips” which were mostly basic hygiene stuff, but also included a note suggesting that employees ask colleagues if they’re unsure of their state. I’m sure colleagues would be fine with being asked to perform a cursory sniff test. Yeeeees.

It brings up something to mull on though. Someone must have complained about someone else in [that office] if an email suddenly became necessary. It is not uncommon for HR to address personal hygiene issues. Doing so with a staff-wide email though? Hilarious.

Shabby man by proxy

I was minding my own business on the train, eyes closed and blocking the world out when some guy sat next to me about midway through my ride. It took a few moments for it to hit me, but my olfactory senses came under attack. At first I thought a hobo sat next to me but upon further whiffs I noticed that the odour wasn’t so much urine tinged, but more just that of an unwashed body. I opened my eyes a little bit and looked askance over at the guy. In one hand he held a cup of coffee; in his other hand he held a spliff. Yessir, he was an unwashed pot head.

I closed my eyes again and just tried to ignore it all. All other seats were taken, and I wasn’t going to let a random guy force me out of my seat. Thing is, whenever the train was coming to a stop, the guy would lean over into me, pressing his filth into my vicinity. All I could do was grimace and attempt to suppress my general look of disgust: after all, I didn’t want to offend the person. I was suddenly worried that somehow I would pick up his scent and carry it with me throughout the day. I was pretty grossed out.

A few stops before I had to get off, from the spliff in hand it occurred to me that the man was likely heading to Kensington or perhaps College. Then it also hit me that damn, that meant that he’d be riding with me for as long as I’m on there. I was eager to prove myself wrong. When my stop came, I got up and rushed out–he didn’t move. When I stepped off though, he let out a big moan, stood up and headed out. Boo!

I rushed to the streetcar and hoped that it would leave before he’d get on. I didn’t want to get too close to anyone for fear that I was carrying his odour with me. I didn’t want to be the shabby-man-by-proxy. The car was packed, and the doors were about to close but somehow he managed to get on-board. There was some distance between us, but I could still smell him. Or, perhaps that was me that I was smelling. God, I was so paranoid. It was only then that I finally got a good look at him. His air was unkempt and rather long. His shirt was wide open, exposing a body ravaged by time.

College St. came around and I was proven correct: he was getting off at that stop. When he did, I took a discreet breath. I sniffed around for a few moments and to my relief I didn’t smell any thing wrong with my clothes. Thing is, maybe my nose has gotten used to the smell. I wasn’t sure. The air was clearer in the streetcar. Someone in there must have been wearing something like cotton candy lip gloss or something similar. The scent became so strong without anything there to compete with it. Smelling candy after that guy left just made me laugh.

Just another day.

Hoooooow unfortunate

(4:23 PM) crunchy frog: how do you respond to any of that shit?
(4:23 PM) crunchy frog:
like “umm…good for you?”
(4:24 PM) crunchy frog: “i didn’t realize you can generate that much stink since coming from home”
(4:25 PM) crunchy frog: “hoooooow unfortunate”
(4:26 PM) crunchy frog: :roll:

Mother nature is thumbing her nose at us

Despite the balmy weather we had on Monday, it was only a matter of time before we had another good dumping of snow. Ten to fifteen centimetres later, I’m feeling like mother nature is thumbing her nose at us. Who can argue with her?

As I was getting ready for work, my mother expressed a lot of concerned about me being on the roads in these conditions. “Can’t you work from home?” Well, technically yes, I could have, but I’ve got some documents that I’m working on that are stuck on my hard drive and would be unavailable from home because all I can do is log onto the Unix servers. Of course, I didn’t tell her all that, but I condensed it to something clear and concise without getting into unnecessary technical jargon.

“No.”

Well, that didn’t do anything to ease her mind, so I told her that I’d just take the bus. From the look in her eyes, you would have thought that I was being sent off to die. I almost bought into it, too. I was going to call into work and say, “I can’t come in to the office today because I want to avoid sure death.” Well, hey, this is Canada. I told my mother, “This isn’t the first snow storm I’ve had to commute through.” Seriously.

So yeah, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to take the bus during the morning peak hours. Since I usually drive to the subway station, I’ve usually had to skip the bits involving overcrowding. When the TTC announced that it was increasing service on the 133, I thought, “are you kidding? That’s packed?” Well, by the time the 133 reaches my area is not as crowded but later on the route I was surprised by how many people there were. I guess it was a good thing that service was increased.

I sat down between this school kid and this woman who had a horrid loud gaudy ringtone. I took a moment to think bout how bad it was, but in the process I was hit by a wall of nasty morning breath. Yes, morning breath is a fact of life, but if you have to go out, have some decency and try to freshen up a little bit, you know? Luckily she wasn’t breathing directly at me, but she might as well have been doing so: I’m sure it would’ve been just as potent from a few farther feet away. Every time I heard her ringtone, I surreptitiously took a good breath inward in the hopes that I wouldn’t have to subject myself to her nastiness. Mercifully her conversations were rather short.

I miss driving. Driving to the station shaves half an hour off my commute time. At least, when I move I’ll be sufficiently close enough to the subway that I won’t have to drive–I don’t mind the subway at all. Meanwhile, unless a better route somehow becomes available from my current place, I’m going to keep doing driving in. A slow drive vs. a hygienically challenged woman? Hmm…next time I’m not going to let a little snow stop me.

Hygienically Challenged

The other day, I was just thinking about how often I used the term ‘hygienically challenged’ when I write about my commutes to work. It’s kind of amusing.

I wasn’t originally planning on writing about my commute (yet again). However, on the streetcar, I ended up having to stand next to a guy who reeked of urine stained clothes. There was a Chinese couple in front of me talking to each other, and even though I didn’t understand what they were saying, I knew what the topic was; they were covering their noses and frowning heavily.

So, this perhaps this is what I get for thinking about the term “hygienically challenged.” Hey…if that worked, maybe I should think about a term like “nubile maidens.” Who knows what will happen?

Moaning hippie

This morning on the streetcar, I sat down by the back doors, quietly absorbed in my music. Piercing through the angst and strain of Alanis were long groans and moans coming from what sounded like an old man about midway in the car. The middle aisle was already full of people, so I couldn’t see the source of the noise. It didn’t seem like anyone was acting with a sense of urgency, so I thought nothing of it.

As people got off, it seemed a bubble was forming around someone on the other side of the car. People were avoiding this guy that seemed like a hippie. He had long greying hair, and had this braided hair tie thing going around his forehead. He had various things hanging from his pants. The item among them that drew my attention the most was a bell that rang as he walked. He was hygienically challenged and smelled quite ripe; it’s no wonder that people formed a “perimeter” around him.

He stood up from his seat and proceeded to continue retching and moaning. The sound was halfway between being arthritic and orgasmic: say, ‘arthrasmic’, or perhaps, ‘orgasritic.’ As he neared his stop, he moved towards the rear doors, with his bell gently clanging with every step. The smell caused me to hold my breath. Unfortunately, the car caught a red light and had to stop before the destination. The hippie wretched and moaned.

Eventually he got off, allowing me to exhale and generate a big sigh of relief.

All of that made me smile this morning.

More random transit musings

I was planning on writing about some philosophical stuff that my coworker and I were talking about on the way to Kensington Market during lunch…but instead, I’ll leave some random thoughts I’ve had while riding transit.

- That guy over there smells of bad B.O. I wonder if he knows he smells. Makes me wonder if I’m generating any strong odours, myself.

- I’ve been sneezed on, been harassed by crazies, had newspapers rested on my head while the holder reads comfortably…and last night I can add “had cantaloupe dropped on him” to that list of misfortunes.

- If the train drivers don’t announce the stops, how will the nappers know when to rouse themselves from their shallow dozing?

- Does pumping classical music in certain stations really deter the young folk from loitering? Isn’t it possible that you end up with a problem of rowdy sophisticates loitering around instead?

- There are a lot of old people who pretend to not know and cut the line while waiting for streetcars. Do they feel entitled? Are they just unaware?

Preparations

Time is just flying by. Eh, it only seems like a while ago when this trip to Japan was kind of just a far off dream. And now…it’s only days away. It all feels very unreal.

It’s the end of Wednesday, and I have a ton of preparation to do. I have to pack. I have to go shopping and pick up essentials like toothpaste and deodorant. I keep hearing from various sources that deodorant is tough to find in Japan. It’s something about Japanese people (Asian people in general, I guess) not smelling rank even when they get sweaty (hey, don’t ask me). I need to make a list so that my outing tomorrow will be sufficiently efficient. I need snacks. I need to make sure to pack a roll of toilet paper (you never know). I wonder if I’ll get to see one of those wonder toilets. I need my e-ticket record. I need to make sure to remember my passport. I need to remember my cash. I need a good book or two for the plane ride. I need a plug adapter. I need to print out various maps and things.

Lots to do, lots to do, lots to do. Almost seems like I’m running around like a chicken with its head cut off, but honestly I’m not. In truth, I’m feeling pretty lazy. Tomorrow: no more. I can’t afford to, I guess.

土曜日に 日本へ行きます!
(On Saturday, I’m going to Japan!)

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