Today boasted the Morning of Stink.
When I left the house this morning, the sidewalks were redolent of old, bad marijuana; this is not uncommon. Once I boarded the subway for my commute into Manhattan, I sat surrounded by a miasma of unbrushed teeth and too much garlic. After a transfer, I sat again, wreathed in the acrid stench of vomitus and the pungency of flatulence. As I arrived at the campus where I teach on Monday afternoons, I was assailed by the odor of either spoiled fish or a womens' restroom in dire need of attention.
The men's room, as always at the Monday afternoon campus, smells of Play-Doh.