Smelly people first thing in the morning making me cross

[Wherecanitbe]

I completely understand in the UK we are currently experiencing extremely high temperatures, however......

why is it so many people smell really strongly of B.O first thing in the morning? I was on the bus Saturday morning around 9am and their were one or two people who smelled really strongly, not just slightly. This morning I was in my local shop around 10am and the man in front of me smelled that strongly that when he left, the smell even lingered.

I can understand if it was towards the end of the day, then it would be more reasonable that people would have B.O. I am just really irritated how these people think it's acceptable that other people have to put up with their offensive smell.

Didn’t you know there are some mumsnetters with such keen sense of smell they can pinpoint what day of your cycle you’re on, when you last washed your bra, and exactly how many hours it is since you last had a shower?

sod taking in ironing for extra money, they should rent themselves out for scent work.

There were communal showers in our changing rooms in the mid 80s, but whilst it was often threatened, we were never made to use them so no one did. The main PE teacher was male and he never set foot in the changing rooms, thankfully.

Showers were never mentioned at my kids schools, so I assume they didn't. Sports kit came home as there were no lockers for anything at one school and tiny lockers at the other.

This was in the 80s too - you were clearly lucky. If was horrific

I'm male. The communal showers were compulsory but generally the boys policed each other. The PE teachers didn't venture in. I remember one boy once trying to evade them. He got bundled in fully clothed by other boys with lots of jeering. The (also communal) changing rooms were a minefield. Not keeping your focus sufficiently away from others would risk violence and being accused of being gay but that didn't stop some of the boys from lording it over the others. Getting whacked with a rolled towel was routine. I remember one boy minding his own business and being slapped so hard you could read the aggressor's palm in the imprint. I once mistakenly wore underwear with (I think) motorbikes on them and got the towel treatment and teased for weeks. Telling tales was unthinkable. As Orwell said, such, such were the joys.