I had an early night last night. I wanted to feel refreshed and energetic for the day. The long weekend in Amsterdam was still working its way through my system. By Thursday however I ought be feeling revivified.

Having finished my bottle of manly anti-perspirant the previous morning, I got dressed after my shower today, without dousing myself in freshness.

I called into the Spar on the way to the bus stop to rectify this. Lynx Africa was the only fragrance for sale for the gentleman customer this morning. I reckon the proximity to the boys’ secondary school is the reason for that aroma being the only one available. That shop knows its clientele.

Lynx Africa is a magical potion for teenaged boys. Not only does it ensure you smell good, but is it a powerful aphrodisciac which not only  hides acne, breaking voices and inappropriate motions in body parts; but it also makes one irresistible to the opposite sex. Or so the adverts would have you believe.

I boarded the bus, with the deodorant enveloping me in a hazy glow.

Some Neanderthal had taken my seat on the bus. Not being a desperado I decided that I would allow this grave insult to slide. For once. If it happens again, there may be words.

Instead I went to an alternative seat. Resentfully I pulled my book ‘World without end’ by Ken Follett from my stylish man-bag and started reading.

My nose crinkled involuntarily. What was that disgusting smell?

If it wasn’t halitosis of the most obscene kind.

Emanating from the gentleman behind me. Putrid waves of his foul breath washed over me.

As he was having a (very loud) conversation on the phone his spittle was spraying in putrid little droplets throughout the bus.

The stench was overwhelming. How was it even remotely possible that he did bit not realise how appalling the pong was? I glanced at him. Maybe he had some illness or condition that causes this?

He looked healthy enough.

Maybe he was just a dirty, smelly person?

As soon as the rude woman who had stolen my seat had disembarked, I darted back to my regular seat. Purely to escape the pong.

As the revolting smell permeated the entire bus, I couldn’t entirely escape it.

Even the smell of Lynx Africa was utterly futile in the face of such a nasal onslaught.

And we all know that Lynx Africa has supernatural powers.