Based on a real story:  

"...Now I was just journeying on the way to Edinburgh for an appointment arranged with johnston for visiting her house.

Finding new place to live was interesting, challenging, and more than that, what it gives to me was actually the headache, and had troubled me in the past 3 weeks.

On the train, a business man was nicely sitting nearby me about 9 o’clock of my position. Looks like dapper and tidy, but not all. The smell of his sweaty feet was awesome, which can really harass the human-beings’ minds fleetly, and try to encourage you to suicide by suffocating.

Thanks him for the smell. I was forced to wake up from the dream, which I was dreaming that I was eating some kind of outdate cheese with the crap smell: an even worse experience though, wasn’t it?

Thanks him for pulling me out of that taste, and getting me into another more adventured test, more accurately, thanks his feet. I really do.

Just for showing my little bit appreciation, then, I tried everything nice to keep the distrubing of the smell feet away: watching movie on my laptop wtih the Max. Volume for instance, which I thought that it supposed to be finely worked for turning my attention away. Unfortunately, I failed. The Mr sweaty feet was so powerful that no one could imagine.

Time was passing, apparently, all these some kind of behavioural and psychological reactions of mine were not spotted and realised by Mr sweaty feet, and didn't even bother him keeping his shoes taken-off still.

A long, long insufferable time past with that lovely smell, well, it was actually only a few minutes gone in real. The Mr sweaty feet eventually found and felt the witchery and power of his own treasure, and certainly realised that something needs to be taken in action seriously and immediately, something needs to be right and valuable.

After a very prudential thought, the decision that Mr Sweaty feet made was absolutely right and wise: to keep and perfect the treasure away from all others, do not let them to share my treasure!

He started to recon around and pretended like nothing happened, but underneath the table, his feet was gingerly and quickly searching their boats and ready for boarding.

And, finally, he put his shoes back on........what a nice move.

....the journey was still taking......and everything seemed to be back normal like what it used to be....at least, we were still alive... "

NO offense to Mr Sweaty feet. I don't even know him. This is just a part of the experience on the way of my journey, and I would like to share with you guys.

Before ending....Just sort of curiosity: Have you came across or enjoyed the similar experience or the taste in your life?

Please say: Yes, underwise you are probobly lying....