What Does Victory Smell Like?

Shouldn’t buying men’s deodorant be one of life’s simplest tasks? I thought so until that awful day when I left the supermarket frustrated and smelly. All I wanted was a stick of unscented antiperspirant/deodorant, a product I’d had no previous problem finding. But apparently, smelling like something wonderful has become more important than smelling like nothing at all.

There was a time when men had about six choices in the deodorant department, and half of them were various sizes of Old Spice. But on that recent morning when I went innocently and needfully to the men’s products isle, the shelves held nothing I would remotely consider applying to any part of my body.

Isn’t the purpose of an antiperspirant/deodorant to prevent sweating as much as possible, and to mask any odor that might slip through? I realize things have changed since I claimed the title “geezer,” but the reason we use these products couldn’t have changed from masking odor to enhancing it without some major announcement or TV special, could it?

“Tonight at eight on Fox—the revolution in the world of male scents! So bellows the oh-so-masculine announcer. “American men no longer want to hide behind a wall of neutral aromas. The virility of millions of men is a stake—and the ingenuity of our inventors has produced mighty weapons to fight fragrance blandness. Gentlemen, learn how to emerge from decades of smelling beige—now you can become all the brilliant colors of the rainbow. Watch and learn tonight at eight on Fox!”

Here is a sample of things some men must want to smell like, for I found each of these scents on the shelves: Phoenix, Kilo, Arctic Force, Extreme Blast, Cool Fusion. (odd combination—fusion is “causing material to melt with intense heat.” I guess there are no physicists in the deodorant-naming department.

Frankly, some of these new scents are a bit randy, in my opinion. But these are real names of real deodorants for apparently real men: Lucky Day, First Move, Midnight Touch, Showtime. There are others, but they truly cross the line. Any more explicit, and they’d have to be stored behind the counter in plain brown wrappers. If those are my only choices, I’ll just stink, thank you very much.

Speaking of stinking, do these names make you think of a sweet smell: Intense Sport, Sport Fever, Team Force—isn’t that what a locker room smells like?

The shelves held a few choices I suppose I could live with, like Irish Spring, Ultra Fresh, Clean Slate, Ultra Clean. There was one I nearly bought, called Original Scent. But I hesitated, trying to conjure up my own original scent. Thoughts of diapers and burps after a bottle flooded my mind and I quickly put Original Scent back among its brother scents.

Six shelves high and 30 feet long—that’s a lot of products to consider, especially for something as small as a stick of anti-stink. But I forged ahead, hoping that my time would reward me with just the right thing. After all, I’d bought Unscented here before. My old eyes are dimming, I thought. It’s here somewhere, I just have to keep looking.

Silly me. The next shelf offered such things as Energy, Power Rush, Storm Force, Unlimited, Tsunami: I don’t want to storm the castle—I only want to blend into the background, smelling not like a rose, but like nothing at all!

Moving down another shelf, I found a few promising items, if Unscented wasn’t available: Cool, Fresh, Clean, Chill. But then I noticed the prices; each one was over $5 for a smaller stick than my trusty old Unscented at $2.79. Again, I thought to myself, I’ll just let myself stink. Maybe the men around me will be wearing some of these exotic essences, and they’ll think, “Gee—that guy must be wearing Locker Room, or Sauna. I’ll have to ask him where he got it.”

The final shelf—my last chance. If there’s nothing here, I really will just stink. But there was more of the same: Ocean Surf, Wild Rain, Natural, Victory. All right, I know the smells of the ocean, I’ve enjoyed the clean smell after a hard rain, and nature itself does have a nice, pure scent. But what does Victory smell like? When someone wins a race, or a football game, or a tennis match, that’s victory. Who wants to smell like that, really? I’d appreciate getting the trophy, but let me take a shower first.

But I wouldn’t have an unscented deodorant to put on. Maybe I could use baby powder. Moving over to the baby department, I was revolted to discover the available scents: Forever Fresh with Time Release Fragrance, Comforting with Vanilla and Jasmine, Calming with Lavender and Chamomile.

Now that I am walking the world without deodorant, it is a truly good thing that I spend most of my time far from the presence of others. Unfortunately, I have to rub myself with catnip to get my five formerly friendly kitties to come near me.