So there we were, my wife and I, coming back from seeing the cherry blossoms on Sunday. Images of beauty and all in our heads.
But things were about to change.
There's this woman in the seat across from us, and she whips her blouse off over her head.
Whoo-hoo. Living free.
But OK, she was wearing a singlet underneath, so it's all good. Nothing's "showing," so to speak. It's only PG-13.
Then, rummaging in a shopping bag, she pulls out another blouse.
I'm still cool, she's just going to get dressed again, I think, this probably happens every day.
But then she hauls out a stick of roll-on deodorant, the kind with the wide head, and proceeds to apply it generously. Spring breeze,we thought.
Maybe we should have been happy. Maybe she was applying it as a kindness to her fellow passengers.
Or maybe she wanted to freshen up for a date.
But the view of the armpit! Vast, exposed, right there and up close. I just wish I'd have been fast enough to get a picture for the Hall of Shame, but my eyes were fried, and I was paralyzed ("The horror! The horror!" to quote Kurtz from "The Heart of Darkness").
So, I have only my memories.