#smellslikeold

I just got home after the first Manhattan of the pre-Autumn season, and I am suffering from olfactory overload.  The moment I walked into the foyer of my building, I was hit with a blast of faux wintergreen. When I got to the second floor it became apparent that either someone is suffering from some severe muscle soreness or they are trying to break a world record for Wint-O-Green consumption. Maybe there is a Ben-Gay tea I never heard of...or a new failed Glade scent. Whatever the case, a cloud of it is in my apartment.  I live on the fourth floor. The injury or the experiment lives on the second floor. This is cause for concern. Maybe a football team lives there now. Maybe Tim Riggins lives there (that would be nice, but first of all I am taken, second of all we all know he smells of Bud and dirty jeans). Plus, it would just be way too awkward to live above Tim Riggins. I have too many issues with this place as it is, I don't need a hot Texan from a successful television progr---