Sean Gallagher

Blog

I Choose Noise [find me in the crowd]

Smell

A few days ago, a well-to-do older lady got on the elevator with me.  She farted.  It smelled like cooked broccoli water filtered through a homeless man's soiled underwear.  I was wearing headphones so this professional odor sneaked up on me and weakened me at the knees.  Soon the entire elevator reeked of a high-grade foulness that scientists in a specialized lab couldn't reproduce.  The only consolation was that she knew that I knew that she farted.  We lived with her shame for the few floors we shared in the elevator.  I exited and a new victim entered the soiled confinement, so I knew the olfactory offensive would have confirmation.  The pic relates to the face I saw as the elevator doors closed.  

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