Sweaty, Betty

The temperature has soared since the end of last week. Today wasn’t really an exception. I have my usual 8.30am Monday meeting (the leadership team meet and I’m what might best be called a ‘peripheral participant’). One doesn’t really speak unless spoken to. And there feels like so much dissension between the directors I find the whole thing inherently draining. But I digress.

Temperatures in the UK are soaring. Not a cloud in the sky. This is real, summer weather. The day isn’t desperately long and I leave at 6pm – early for me. The tube is hot but bearable. The train, on the other hand, is something else. It’s boiling. Sweating people are over-represented. I’m not keen on sweat. I always wear thin v-neck white t-shirt/vest items under my shirts. Sheridan has always wondered why, assumed it odd, put it down to eccentricity, that kind of thing. I have told him, though, on countless occasions – that when I lived in Japan in the late 90s – almost all the men wore such items under their shirts. You know why? It absorbs the sweat meaning you don’t end up with horrid damp patches on your shirt. I really am not a fan of that mosaic of dampness that appears on the back of a man’s shirt – or even worse – those dark, Dickensian orbs that appear under the arms. I just don’t like it. So I retain a permanent ‘when in Rome’ mentality at this time of year. I defer to and emulate those in the East – in hotter, stickier climes – who know far better how to deal with this oppressive heat than we do.

And I do everything possible to avoid getting too close to demonstrably sweaty people. I abhor the foetid smell of body odour. Of course it afflicts some more than others. Thankfully I don’t sweat all that much and I don’t use anti-perspirant – only deodorant. I use French or Italian brands (my favourite being the high street Italian brand – Borotalco) and every (week) day I will use aftershave – invariably L’Occitane’s Eau des Beaux. And yes – it is because I want to come out smelling of roses. And no, the ‘Lynx effect’ – beloved by the Middle-England male – does not do it for me.

All in all – loving the hot weather but so very not loving commuting in it. Of course, in one week’s time I will be commuting by bus – from within zone 1 – and tube journeys will be ancient history.

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