Rotting taco meat.

That’s probably the best description of the smell emanating from the guy next to me on the stair master machine.  It was kind of unbelievable, because I can’t say that I’ve ever smelled that kind of funk from any human being in my entire life.  It was like the myth of sweating what you eat was actually coming true from this guy or something.

All I know is that it was making me sick to my stomach, and that it turned my stair climbing session into the worst 25 minutes of my entire life.  I seriously can’t fathom how such an odor can come from an actual person.

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