I was drying off after my shower this afternoon when I accidentally knocked over a bottle of cologne. My cologne. My only bottle. I didn't really even know I had it anymore. It is 2/3 gone, but I'm pretty sure it evaporated. The less than stellar photo above tells you a few things, but there are a few that are unknown. First off, I have no idea what the name was, as only the letters E, R, and C are legible. I imagine it was a scent known as "MERCENARY" and was abbreviated MERC, but I can't be sure. It could also have been "HERC," short for Hercules. I like MERCENARY, as it suggests it is for a man that wants to smell sweet for the ladies, but is in it for the money and the thrill. Which would make him a gigolo, I suppose......OK, HERC it is.
Here is what we do know- that is not me on the bottle, and it is from Abercrombie and Fitch. The latter tidbit should allow us to Carbon-14 date it, as I am 38, and would not have been caught dead in an Abercrombie in more than a decade. I fucking hate that store so much now, I won't even use symbols to spell the F word. The wife and I went in there a few years ago to get a gift for a niece or nephew, and it made me vomit in my mouth a bit.
Back to the story; a bit spilled when it fell, filling the bathroom with the smell of fruityvinegarwoodalcohol. It turns out that cologne expires like a bottle of wine after a while. It was spoiled, believe it or not. I knew I had to let my bride smell my newfound macho. After two squirts on the neckline, I pranced naked (literally) into the baby's room where she was changing Lui. I leaned in and gave her a deep sniff. The reaction was animalistic and intense; an instant deep belly-laugh and the acknowledgement that I clearly had a new subject to post about. As I type, I can still smell this shit. It won't wipe off, and is making me feel like I drank floor cleaner.
This incident reminded me of my past relationship with cologne. Like every kid that I knew, I used to rock the scent in my teens. Drakkar, Obsession, Eternity, I had them all. I once had a full bottle of Drakkar break in my hockey bag under the bus on the way to a road game. You could smell it from inside the bus, and I knew instantly it was mine and I was screwed. Hockey was my life from age 6 to 19, and I was known as a tough kid that could grind. Hockey is a pretty brutal sport, and playing a game literally reeking of cologne is not a smooth move. I dunked all my equipment in the shower before the game but Drakkar sticks to stuff like burning white phosphorous; the water just makes it stronger. At first I got heckled by the dastardly Devils Lake Satans (true mascot name!), but after a while I think they got tired of standing in my cloud of flowery essence.
I expect I am done with cologne for good; I will still use my Nivea shower gel (which I refer to as "ChickNip" as it has the same effect on the ladies as catnip does on my cat), but aside from that, you are all stuck with my natural scentless macho.