This was in the days when sales assistants on perfume counters actually knew what they were talking about.
........ I wandered 'down the estate' at the weekend .......... Left Mum and Nieces wandering around the lippy section in Boots and went to see what they had in mens fragrances......... The whole bloody corner smelled like a tart's handbag..... and I only wanted to see what the Kouros Silver was like. There always seem to be girls wandering around in there, dolled up to the nines and gorgeous ......... but always looking to grab you, spray something on you and, if you're really not careful, blag you into buying it.
So I grab one of their funny little blotter strips and instantly earn the hairy eyeball from the bored looking security waller by spraying the first blast into the air to clear the pipes .......... Quickly followed by the usual sales assault from 'Dollie Bird; Variation #4'. Nice girl, really ......... but it all seemed to be about what a girl liked to smell on a bloke (Whereas I pretty much don't give a s**t what anyone thinks if I like it) ..... and when she landed on Paco Rabanne 'Million', I knew we just weren't on the same wavelength. Seriously..... 'Million'? ............ I've had two bottles of the EDT given to me over the years. I smelled it once and put it down, but somebody used up both those bottles .......... and
she's busy two aisles over trying to find a match for her favourite hair colour because those bastards at L'Oreal have discontinued 'Autumn Sunrise'.
Seriously, I hate the stuff ......... I think it's why women and girls like it so much: Somebody slapped 'Pour Homme' on it for a laugh and now all the girls have to do if they want a bottle of their favourite smelly, is buy their fella a bottle of it and just wait for it to come their way..... A bit like buying your dad a hamster for Christmas ......... not only will you have fulfilled your duty of giving your dad a great present for Chrimbo, but by Boxing Day, you'll also own a hamster .......
Anyway ...... I was saved by my other niece interrupting us ....... Eight years old, a master of impropriety, a foghorn for a voice and affectionately known as 'Satan' ...... so I got out while the going was good ........or at least before the little bugger got us thrown out. Then I smelled the top of my arm ....... and there it was ........ the Kouros from yesterday morning was still there.......... and I'd had a shower and scrubbed myself down with Dettol soap since then.
I reckon I'll stay away from Boots in future