Jolly Ol' Saint Nic(otine)

You sat right behind me. I had no reason to notice you but then your unwholesome stale cigarette stench invaded my nose. I glanced back to determine the origin of this suffocating odor. I expected to see a homeless man or stoner but instead I find a man of some years with a beret and a Santa Claus beard. Sort of an unwashed, chain smoking version of the Santa from Miracle on 49th Street. You seemed well dressed for someone with an obvious aversion to washing machines.

I usually don't mind cigarettes; I spend a lot of time at filthy bars moshing to live heavy metal and I have a bit of a secondhand addiction. But this was a whole new level.

As the bus pulled up to each stop and the circulation of air diminished I held my breath and hoped for a quick pull-away to bring back the fresh air. I don't know if there is a term for echolocation using smell but I discovered I can do it if the smell is strong enough. I got off a stop early to escape and I suspect others did, too.

I think my sense of smell and taste have been diminished by the whole experience.