If I could only get him to smell himself

I am back. I forgot to mention that Monday, while at Mayfair, who should be at his usual middle machine, but Stinky Guy. He was ripe, but I had to gut it out. I got on my machine and every so often the current would shift and my eyes would water. It was a veritable potpourri of human body stink and something sweeter as a possible masking agent. It did not mask the smell. It is kind of like putting an Airwick in a sewer. I like the idea but it is too little too late.

Suddenly, instead of a simple stink, he has a complex bouquet. You get past the sweet and then that pungent, foul odor hits you right between the eyes. It does so literally considering that is where my nose is, I will not speak for anybody else. That is the scary part. You think that it is all okay until you are assaulted by this smell and left with watery eyes and the desire to smell a sewer in the summer because it has to be nicer smelling than him.

I hate to keep flogging this dead, decaying, rotting and stinking idea but he just keeps looking straight ahead as I moan and huff and puff when ever his stink wafts my way. I want to tell management about it, because I did when he was not there, but they are never there when he is. I have to point it out as it is rude and nobody, I mean nobody, should be exposed to that smell.

I am not sure what to do here. Am I being too considerate of his feelings to the detriment of my own senses? Is he aware and just obtuse? Should I just let the rage take me where I need to go? These are the questions that I have. Is there more? Have a great weekend, one and all, ciao.