Turns out, it's me.
I booked a last-minute massage today, and the combination of essential oils the masseuse slathered on me made me smell like i bathed in patchouli.
All day, I've been turning around expecting to see a dread locked, hemp-wearing, friendly stoner asking me to sign a petition for the injustices in [enter foreign place here].
Imagine my surprise when there's no one behind me, and it's I who smells like 3 days at bonaroo.
not so much my favorite scent, me thinks a shower is due.
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