The 15-year-old regaled me with the tale of Mister Stinky Man.

MSM gets on the public metro bus about 1/2 way during the commute. And from his “name” you have probably guessed that he smells not so good. For a bunch of high-school guys, many of whom are only too aware of their personal hygiene, this is troubling. And a source of entertainment.

The 15-year-old: We see him at his stop. And then all the boys from my school run to the windows and open them up. We stick our faces out. Man, he smells bad.

Me: Hmmmm…

The 15-year-old: We NEED to. He really smells bad. Like really bad.

Me: Like piss?

The 15-year-old: Like stink.

Me: Is he in ragged clothes? Is he a bum?

The 15-year-old: No. He just stinks. He puts newspaper down on the seat before he sits down, he stinks so bad.

Me: Hunh. So he knows he stinks. Do you think that he can’t help it?

The 15-year-old pauses. He is thinking.

The next day he missed the morning bus. Had an appointment. On the way home from practice…

The 15-year-old: I was glad I wasn’t on the bus this morning.

Me: The Stinky Man?

The 15-year-old: Some stupid freshman decided to throw a bar of soap at him. And sprayed him with Right Guard.

Me: That’s just wrong.

The 15-year-old took a different route this morning. He didn’t want to be associated with the stupid freshman. He saw one of his classmates on the alternative route. He, too, wasn’t pleased with the action of the underclassman. They thought that he didn’t represent.

The 15-year-old: There is a line. The kid definitely crossed it.