Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

Second week at A-Basin, as my husband and I waited in line for the chairlift, an intoxicating smell kept wafting around us. I usually don't like perfumes and aftershaves (too many sons, too much Axe), but this was so "je ne sais quoi" it cast a spell. I tried to discreetly tilt my head towards its source to figure out where it was coming from, but could not. And then a handsome young snowboarder (dichotomy #1) asked to share our chair, and as luck would have it, it was he who smelled so divine (dichotomy #2). I honestly couldn't resist--I leaned into him and said, "Is that you who smells so, so good?" He smiled a confident smile. "What IS that?" I asked, sniffing around his shoulders and neck. My husband was too surprised by my behavior to be made uncomfortable by it, and had become interested in the answer as well. "Are you married?" he asked the two of us. "Yes!" we said. "Then I'll tell you," he said. "Since your wearing it" (gesturing to my husband) "won't cramp my style. I like to keep my pool as big as possible." And then he told us: Clubman. "It's weird," he said. "I think my grandfather wore this aftershave, but every time I go out, women flock around me and can't get enough of it. Kind of like you just did there." "I LOVE it!" I said. "It's the PBR of aftershaves!" my husband laughed. "Exactly," the handsome man with irresistible aromas emanating from his body said. "And it looks like you might be getting some in your Christmas stocking this year." But as I sat there, leaning into him, sniffing his chest and left shoulder for the remainder of our time on the lift, something he'd said kept echoing through my brain: "...every time I go out, women flock around me and can't get enough..." I looked at my husband, sitting safely unmolested on my left. Then, I imagined him splashing a little Clubman on, hitting the slopes. I imagined dozens of cute Bettys coming out of the trees and bumps, crowding around him, sniffing his chest and shoulders, and oohing and ahhing about how good he smelled. There will be no Clubman in my husband's stocking this year.