"Do I smell?"
"You're fine."
"Really?"
"Nah, just messing with you."
"Aw, shit. Why do you smell so good then?"
"Bukhoor. Great stuff. Really started to use it when a vendor in Madinah convinced me to get it."
"Can I have some?"
"I can lend you some other perfume."
"Oh, thanks." Pscht! Pscht! "Oh! Oh, wow, that's heavy!"
"Base notes are patchouli, sandalwood, incense, and amber. Good stuff?"
"Again, heavy as hell."
"I think you just sprayed too much."
"Look, man, I'm not a perfume guy, I'm a computer guy."
"You're decently well-dressed."
"And you're not. Is there a reason why you wear the same black garbs everyday?"
"It's cheap. I'm a cheap guy."
"Do you not wash it?"
"I have four duplicates. Sewed 'em myself." Kazi Hossain stopped in his tracks and David followed suite. "Here we are."
