Thursday night after group, we were gathered around the Adult Freestyle Circle of Fire, chatting away.
Then one of the denizens of the hockey locker room opened the locker room door next to me and suddenly a tide of stench rolled out, hit my nose, and for the first time since 1980, I got a full whiff of reality. Skaters have told me about this smell, but I never...I mean, I really never comprehended..... as if I was blinded by a nuclear explosion of fetor, I compulsively yelled out...
"OH DEAR GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL!!!"
It smelled like a dead cow, left to rot in a summer field, wrapped in a plague, tied up with a bow of moldy jock straps, then covered in the mildew of scorn and the dew of despair.
The hockey player, a grown man on the farm team, slid out, head down and ran out on some errand.
We figure skaters spoke loudly about the odor, hoping our words would haunt him throughout the building. When he came back we continued to belittle the filthy habits of the hockey team and yet we managed to do this while not paying attention to him at all. He had to thread his way between a bunch of women and one guy who were ignoring and insulting him at the same time.
We kept the loud discussion of filthy habits, and 'good luck' superstitions, going for a bit more. Then I noticed the door of the locker room had cracked open and a single eye was looking at me in terror.
I gave Bad Ass Ice Dancer a high sign so we could move down to the other end of the bench, and as we moved Bad Ass Ice Dancer made a loud and pointed comment: "I once shared a locker room with the
Now that I've smelled it once, I smell it every time I go to the rink. I'll never be able to eat at the Cafe' again.
|This is a corpse flower, with an odor of rotting flesh, apparently they're growing them|
in the hockey locker room