The problem with being homeless and being by yourself is that you never truly know how good or bad you smell at any given moment. Sure, you're usually a pretty clean guy, but then again you got your clothes this morning from a suitcase sitting in your trunk next to your shoes and dirty laundry (which sits in another suitcase, which sometimes you intermix). Or maybe you got your clothes yesterday morning, who knows? Then there's your car. I've done all I can to make it smell nice. There's an odor-deleter hanging from the rearview, a bag of pina colada scent under the drivers seat, and two (two!) vanilla scent sticks in the vents. But sometimes I still catch a whiff of something... strange. Is it the car? Is it me? Or is it the car, and by transitive property, me? Maybe I'm lucky and it's just my nappy hair.
Fortunately, no one cares if you smell bad when no one's around. I suppose you might, but you don't smell yourself that often, and honestly smelling bad sometimes is just one of the sacrifices I've come to accept with this lifestyle. I'm just afraid that I'm stinking up everywhere I go and none of my friends are telling me. Because seriously, I'm not sure I would tell my friend that dude smells like rot. That's just rude.
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