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You’re sitting on a train that’s slightly warm, packed with passengers, and suddenly you get a whiff of “rotten egg” stench.
Stop after stop, the crowd thins out, but that onerous odor remains. You search for the offender as subtly as you can, so you can find a seat in the opposite direction. As your head swivels, you’re hit with that stench again, so strong you could swear it was you.
You nonchalantly dip your head down toward your underarm — wait a minute. It is you. But you didn’t even work out today. And you took a shower this morning. And you’re wearing deodorant.
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