So, in the field this weekend doing a training event in preparation of a bigger training even later this summer.
I'm sitting in the TOC, first time I've been in the field without nicotine coursing through my veins, mind you. Battalion XO walks in and pulls out his can, packs it, puts a pinch in and then begins talking to the assembled battalion staff. I'm a visitor on this mission, I'm actually assigned to the Brigade, but augmenting the battalion staff for this exercise. So the XO goes through his spiel, but I can't listen to a word he's saying. All I can do is not be nauseated by the smell of his dip. The TOC in this case is an expandable, modular, kevlar clad trailer, and while there is a heater/AC wall unit for temp control, it's basically a poorly ventilated 20' x 20' box.
My head was swimming it was so freaking overpowering, the smell of his berry blend, or apple, or whatever the fuck the flavor was. I was always a Skoal Straight guy, those fruity flavors never sat well with me even when I was using it, but now, my god, I wanted to fucking puke. I've never in my life been so overpowered with a sense of nausea simply from the smell of somebody else's dip.
After he stopped talking and I stepped outside to get some fresh air and clear my head, I thought to myself that for years, people have smelled similar scents on me, and I never realized just how pungent it was. It's amazing that I was so blinded by my addiction that the putrid smell of chewing tobacco didn't even bother me, and I had the nerve to believe that it didn't bother people I was talking to.
I've never felt more foolish than I did after sitting in the TOC with the BN XO briefing the group with a dip in and subjecting everybody to that horrid fucking nasty smell.