God almighty, you would not believe how much my armpits itch.
Or maybe you would. Ever switch from a deodorant that was working just fine, merely because you were struck by the impulse to try something new? Happened to me, and my skin is very angry. Oh, what a capricious, reckless fool I’ve been.
I didn’t even change brands. It was a different kind of Old Spice, nothing more. I went from Original Scent to something called Playmaker. SHUT UP. The moniker now fills me with the loathing and distrust it probably should have when I first saw it there on the overstuffed shelf in Duane Reade.
But no, I had to give it a whirl. Why not. Loyalty is dull. How long does a stick of deodorant last. What repercussions could a choice this small even have. Now my tufts of underarm hair are getting fused together as if by bits of dry soap.
You know what it was? It’s that I went from the stick of blue stuff to the stick of white stuff. The white stuff is terrible, flaky nonsense. Blue stuff, I’ll never forsake you again. Forgive me. Stay here on my bedroom dresser—always.