the three days we were in Mysore, Abby and I ran into Sammy what
seemed like every ten minutes. He was funny, street smart, and tried
like hell to get us to go to his family's perfume shop. The first
day we politely declined, but we bought him lunch.
He was a nice kid, but his facts were a little mixed-up. He told
us he once lived in Pakistan which is right next to Zimbabwe and
Australia. I wish I could remember more of the crazy stuff he swore
to be true.
Eventually Sammy conned us into going to his family's high-class
smell dealership. Despite the hypnotic fumes and Sammy's ultra-slick
perfume selling uncle, Abby and I walked away smelling remarkably
better, but empty handed.