Tales of catastophe, sex and squalor from the Alpine Underbelly...

Belle de Neige

Friday, 29 January 2010

Smells

Ski hours: Not enough. Been a bit foggy and am a fair weather skier these days.

Celebs spotted: Beesley is still wafting around. H is practically stalking him. But most random of all - we spotted Rick Astley the other night in a club ....and Brandon Block was on the decks. I doubt these two events are unrelated. Perhaps they are buds. Roughly the same era aren't they? Anyway, Astley was having it. Cutting some serious chunks. He was actually pole dancing at one point. How random is that? Kids born after 1988 (this sadly includes SbH).... I'm talking about this geezer....


Today I'd like to complain about ...

Smells. I think this revolting phenomenon has just overtaken hair and/or the Cupboard of Dispair in my top areas of chalet girl loathing.

One thing I never expected from this job, is that, like a dog, you get to know your clients intimately by scent. Being nostril raped on a daily basis by people you barely know scores fairly low on my chart of desirable activities to be honest. I'm not talking sweat or BO....I'm talking the very individual and personal smell that each of us has. Some of us like to mask it with fragrances, the Linx effect etc. Some of us keep it real. Horribly, horribly real.

Now it's true, many ladies and gents have an incredibly sexy personal smell...(FYI SbH smells excellent. And that's sans aftershave.) Some people fucking stink. Their smells linger in the bathroom and hit you like a cricket bat to the face when you walk in innocently clutching your windowlean and bleach. The smells hang, damply in the air.

One Brazilian guy last week had this nutty, sweet, dusty scent which was interlaced with something else which took me several days to pinpoint. But I finally realised could only be... sweaty ballsack. It literally made me retch. I had to wear a Mickie J style cloth over my nose and mouth when I was cleaning his room. And I got a waft of him once when I was serving dinner and had to retire to a safe distance and recompose myself for fear of throwing up. They say smell is linked strongly to memory. Well that smell will follow me to my grave. If he's in the same room as me randomly in ten years time, I'll know it. And probably throw up. I have no idea how his wife handles it.

Shudder....

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