The scent of a man

When the packaged arrived I let out a girlish squeal. With a shake I knew what it was. The Tylenol bounced out, my favorite red capsules covered in caffeine. And in the bottom of the package, two sticks of High Endurance Old Spice.

See, Koreans don't really smell. So I send away for my old Old Spice, something they don't sell. It had been a week since my stick ran out, and I'm sure my coworkers had silently noticed my change of smell.

To the bathroom I rushed to slide a little on. After work, home for an evening shower. Without the morning rush I organized the cabinet. And what's behind the ten tubes of toothpaste work gifted me for Thanksgiving? One tall stick of Old Spice. Unused.