I haven’t used my locker in weeks. I arrive at school for class and don’t linger, so my real locker is the trunk of my car.
But today is different. I packed lunch for a marathon day at school, so I finally went to my locker to throw my lunch in.
My locker must have missed me because when I open the locker, it flings a bottle of Abercrombie Fierce cologne from the top shelf. The bottle smashes on the floor.
I quickly look around and pick up the glass shards, and then sneak to the trash and hide the evidence. I then wipe the floor dry, and hope I didn’t get too much of the Fierce water on me in the process.
When I return to my locker at lunch, the entire locker room stinks like an Abercrombie store. All that was missing was the gay club music and bitchy teenagers.
A gaggle of surprisingly chipper 1Ls from my orientation section are in my locker aisle. I apologize to them for the whore-house smell and explain what happened.
1L: “Oh! THAT’S where it’s from! We were joking that someone didn’t know the rules of body scent application.”
Sigh. No, it’s just Jansen, planting another perfume bomb.
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