Smitty sat on the bench and wondered what he was going to do about his oh-so-embarrassing problem.

Girls noticed right away. Many wouldn't say anything, of course; merely giggle and look down at the offending area. What could he say? What could he do to reduce his... well, to be delicate. his *dilemma*...

His male buddies were usually not so discrete. They'd make a face and comment, but when the problem failed to be resolved - not for hours, but months, and then YEARS,... well, he'd seen every doctor he could, but they all scratched their heads in puzzlement and sent him on to someone else. A never-ending line of physicians that saw no cure, nevermind his increasing discomfort,. However, they did apparently see a paper they could publish in their near futures...

Smitty eventually found himself alone. And making new friends was impossible in this sort of situation. The problem was too obnoxious for polite company.

At least outdoors, in sandals, his feet could breathe and the fresh park air dispelled the noxious odor. A brief respite from his own company, and plenty of room for others to give him - and THEM - a wide berth.