I understand the life of a college student; I’m one of the poor bastards. However, your biology should not stink at 9am. By biology I mean, your breath, and in most cases, your body. I’ve come to understand that many students just roll out of bed and proceed to class. In most cases they wear their cloths that which they also wore to bed. This is absolutely fine by me as long as you sit yourself across the room.  Some say it’s a force of habit to rush out of bed without first donning oneself with water, soap, toothpaste and deodorant. But in reality they do not understand the severe consequences they bestow upon that student that sits aside them.

I awakened one morning feeling rather well about the day. It was a Tuesday. I remember this day solely due to the severity of this student’s poor hygiene. I stopped for some coffee, briskly said hello to the homeless person who sat at the entrance of the train station, and even gave up my seat to an elderly person. This was a great day, so far. The previous day I put aside my daily procrastination routine and actually read the assigned chapter for the next day. I felt proud that I accomplished this easy task. But nothing prepared me for my experience the next day in biology lecture.

I took the second seat in from the aisle. It was around 8:45am and the professor made his way to the front of the lecture hall. He even looked to be in a pleasant mood. Things couldn’t be better. I looked around; the drunken-faced students made their way to their seats. The usual pensive student, George sat to my right. We were on good terms; he didn’t ask me questions and I returned the favor. We worked well as adjacent seatmates. The professor told us to quiet down, we listened. The class was about 90% full. And he started the lecture: mutations in mitochondrial DNA.

Class was in full focus. The professor was going through each process on mutations, mitochondria and DNA. Then this flush faced girl, while standing asked me was the aisle seat taken. I told her no, and so she sat. I didn’t pay much attention to her. Then she asked another question and I turned and consequently my mind was blown. The rotten stench of air that spewed out from her mouth into my nostrils offset the worst episode of vertigo I’ve ever had. I got lost in a dizzy cloud of rancid inebriation. She then repeated the question. My stomach turned like a farmer’s wife turning butter on a hot humid day. I had to hold my head while trying to shut down my nose and mouth. The intensity was unlike any smell I’ve ever smelled. Part of me died that morning. She was definitely harboring a corpse in the pit of her colon.

George got the remaining volume of stench that crept past me. The vile smell had stripped him of his sanity. His faced seemed to turn inside out. Whatever took place for the next 5 minutes, we were oblivious.  We had the mutual agreement that the smell of death was not coming from our eco friendly colons. I had to muster up the words from deep within my catatonic body and say “I have no idea” to her. She then turned and continued to listen to the professor.

Either she had multiple mutations occurring systematically at once or the dead corpse’s mitochondria that lay within her were giving off a shit load of free radicals. Whatever the case might have been, her biology was stinking at 9am.

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