Smelly urchin
I realise that tales of smelly co-workers are well worn this week so if you don't want to read another then scroll on young reader, scroll on.

It's only recently that my nostrils have begun to recover, in much the the same way as someone begins to taste anew after quitting smoking, my olfactory senses are finally beginning to reawaken now that my former colleague has departed. Personal hygiene was some sort of abstract concept to him, he could barely have showered weekly.

Each Monday he would arrive at the office in a shirt laundered by his mother. The shirt would reappear every day with the addition of more creases gathered by hanging it on the floor, and with the addition of more stains from the array of fast food that comprised his entire diet. His clothing, however, was the only thin and crusty veil that hid the most foul and monstrous body odours being emitted from every nook and cranny.

The all pervading smell of oniony body odour was noticeable within a six foot radius but that was mild in comparison to the fate that befell me one Friday. It was a hot and sunny day and the old office was not air conditioned. My former colleague's aroma had reached heady new levels and he'd developed a visible aura of pong surrounding him. A large plotter was delivered that needed to be moved into the store room and my colleague was despatched and unfortunately reappeared some moments later as he required assistance to position the plotter in a suitable location.

With growing trepidation and nausea I leapt up and strode to the storeroom careful not to get trapped downwind in the corridor. The plotter was stood on its side and needed a two person push to get it into place. I bent down to push the bottom half of the plotter before I realised the stupidity of my actions: I'd unintentionally placed my face within 12 inches of his arse. I resisted the urge to jump up out of politeness, after all despite his horribly offending personal hygiene I didn't want to upset the guy, so I turned my head to the side and to take a deep breath of uncontaminated air that would hopefully last until we'd heaved the plotter forwards. It took a prolonged and almighty shove to move it, a prolonged and almighty shove that used up all my oxygen resources and gasping like fish that had just leapt out of the toilet bowl into the ripest and most shit encrusted public toilet seen outside of trainspotting I inhaled what can only be described as Satan's own breath deep into my lungs.

I cringed back and shrank down as my stomach told me the smell had been insuppressibly horrific and a gag reflex was imminent. As my colleague turned to face me I let rip with a mighty "RALLLLLLLLPHHHHHEEERRRGHHHHHH". He looked at me slightly perplexed for a moment before he remarked "cig break" and wandered off leaving me curled up sweating in a ball on the store room floor fighting the urge to barf uncontrollably. Clammy and grey with a thousand yard stare I made my way back to the office and wept quietly.
(Fireyfox is prepared to change, Tue 4 Dec 2012, 21:13, Reply)