Garbage Juice

When I was working as a lifeguard, we took out the trash at the end of the day by loading it all onto a golf cart to drive out to the dumpster. There was a guy that did some sort of other work at the country club-groundskeeping or something? Apparently he had a crush on me, so he tried to get some "alone time" by helping me one day. 

 

He showed off all sorts of daring tricks to impress me. Like gunning it down the bumpy hill and attempting a 180 that almost crashed us into the side of the dumpster. Which would have been fun, except that I had to hold on to all those garbage bags. They had been roasting in the sun all day, so they were pretty stinky.

As we were unloading the trash, some garbage juice spilled onto the seat of the golf cart. Being oh-so-gentlemanly, the guy took off his shirt and wiped it off so I could sit on a clean seat. 

 

But then he put his smelly garbage-soaked shirt back on. 

 

He was chivalrous. But he didn't smell so good.