Mia: Shaken Not Stirred


The true life stories of a NYC female.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Queen Funkerella


It hit me as soon as I entered the store. WTF?! Wham…boff…bing… whomp all up in my face! My nose tingled, my nostrils flared.

WTF?! Where was that coming from? Who up and died in this here place?!Pungent and acidic the stench entangled itself within my nasal hairs it refused to be snorted out…there was no escape.


I smelled her before I saw her. Her stench walked several feet ahead of her announcing her imminent arrival like some sort of royal page…. Her fellow shoppers were less than amused since it was wafting through the store via the air conditioning. Her scent was of dead bloated sewer rat mingled with curry and raw onion hidden for safe keeping under sweaty hairy armpits. The smell won’t be made into a perfume any time soon I can assure you of that. My head instinctively turned to find the source and of course human nature being what it is of course I took in a deep whiff of the funk. The source of said funky funk was holding court with some sandals at least 8 feet ahead of me in the size 9 aisle. She was tall and majestic and wore a pretty skirt with a floral motif of pink and peach. Her top was pink; her turban was of the same fabric as her skirt even her sandals matched. She was absolutely beautiful. I dubbed her Queen Funkerella.

summer in NYC is hot, humid, and muggy. There’s a lot of us peeps living on this lil’ ol' island so can someone tell me what on earth possesses people to leave their homes without deodorant on? Why do they insist on assaulting fellow New Yorkers with their funk? Why good lord why leave your house smelling like goat ass and go into the most crowded situations you can find? Why?!

The queen seemed oblivious to the stench wafting around her. A stench so thick I’m sure with proper lighting it could’ve been visible. I imagined that once she removed her clothing they’d have to be thrown out. Nothing was ever going to ever make that pretty outfit smell clean again. She held her head high…and I wondered could it really be this woman had no idea that she smelled like the bottom of a landfill? She quickly left after making her purchase a fact we were all grateful for. I could only hope that her funky ass made a stop at the Rite-Aid next door and purchased a shopping bag full of deodorant. Without saying a word one of the store’s employee’s sprayed deodorizer into the air…it didn’t help. The store manager then opened the doors in order to air out the place… still nada zip, nothing helped. Her smell still lingered. I think at that point we would have had to call in a voodoo priest and sacrifice a couple of virgins at the cash register to some shoe god in order to rid the place of the smell.

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Posted by @ 11:28 PM
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