I just work out here, I don’t own the joint. Still, you show up, peep out the spots for a week, and decide to start jumping in the station I’ve taken for years. Nice. Your smell … it’s as if Gilroy’s finest crop of garlic rotted in the field for a month. You’re so potent you clear an area 10 feet around you. I can taste your stink when I venture too close. It makes me gag. Your obtuseness stuns me. You look like an executive of some sort. Why do you shower before you go to work and yet attack us at the gym with your stink? Wake up and smell the roses, fella.
I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to iS*****@*******ws.com, or send to 380 S. First St, San Jose, 95113. Submissions should stick to about 100 words.
