The Smell of Bohemia

It seems as though my ab workouts have been paying off, because for the last 48 hours they have been contracting with such force as to preclude me from proper digestion. This however, is a bold faced lie. My body has had far from the proper prescribed diet of exercise and even farther from the proper prescribed diet of food and drink that should indeed follow with the lack of proper prescribed exercise. So it was to my surprise that in spite of my stomach being shaped like a bloated prize pumpkin, that twice in the last two days I have been mentally felt-up, as it were, upon these two men's noses getting a wiff of the book in my hand. These two men were frighteningly similar in their life cadences. Both proclaimed that Jitterbug Perfume and Tom Robbins were their favorites of all time. Both were strongly college-esk, in location, financial situation, and all around look. Both had slightly more light brownish-red hair than face. Both were thirty seconds-or-less human interaction in which they took me completely off guard, listened to my one line egg-sentence scramble, quipped once more, and then quickly cut off all further exchange. Here I was hiding Che this whole time. Methinks I should restrict my reading of this Bohemian Rhapsody to the privacy of my own quarters.