Love Changes Everything
Right now I’m at a coffee shop and there’a man sitting next to me wearing a cutoff shirt whose armpits smell like a bog full of dead elk. He’s not homeless and judging by the iPad, MacBook, and iPhone he’s not living in a sewer either. It’s so bad I can hardly open my eyes and every time I take a drink, I taste that rancid smell in my mouth. Everyone around us clearly smells it and we’ve all done that thing where you look at each other, raise a single eyebrow, then nod in silent agreement that we are both experiencing hell right now.
Obviously I’m not going to tell him about it, right? But why?
Why do most of us find it more acceptable to try and get away from the issue instead of confronting it? This guy is going to walk around for the rest of the…
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