You ARE the Brut Squad!

My older brother uses too much cologne. I think that over the years he's built up an immunity to it (like the Dread Pirate Roberts did with iocane powder). The problem is that no one else has grown as accustomed to it as he has. It’s enough to make your head swim. If you're stuck in a poorly ventilated room with him for more than a few minutes, you start to forget your own name. And a hug from him is like a chloroform-soaked cloth over your mouth.


I'm not sure if he simply enjoys smelling like a JC Penney men's counter or if it's something more sinister. Maybe he's just morbidly afraid of being stinky. Or perhaps he emits a natural scent that attracts man-eating cougars. Either way, it's almost unbearable to be around him. It's a visible mist around his shoulders and torso. You know when you pour gasoline and you can "see" the vapors right above the nozzle? Or when you look right over the top of a car's roof on a particularly hot day? I wouldn't be surprised if you could see the same distortion when you look past his drenched neck. It's a palpable aura of Old Spice aftershave and Brut cologne. It's like Pigpen from the Charlie Brown comics, only with a dizzying mixture of creepiness and overconfidence instead of suspended dirt. I'm always tempted to check his bathroom cabinet when I go to his house to see if he's stockpiled his source. He has to go through at least three bottles a week at the rate he's going. He probably has to buy it in bulk on the internet.

And you better hope you're never stuck in a car with him if you don't have access to a working window. You'd have to try to hold your breath the whole trip or find another way out. Maybe I imagined it, but the last time I was in his sedan, I could have sworn I saw claw marks on the door handle. It looked like someone in a crazed fit of panic tried to escape at any cost. Come to think of it, there was a date my brother came home early from a few years ago that he wouldn't tell anyone about. I bet she bailed while he was still driving.

Now my sister thinks he does it just to cover a standard B.O. problem. But I'm still convinced he's protecting us from being overrun by vicious cougars. One day he'll abandon the smokescreen of musky scent, and we'll finally find out who is right (... and who is dead).