When you try to be modest by sitting with your legs crossed like Kate Middleton but the sweat just collates and when you get up, yes, you look like you have mild incontinence and saying, ‘Oh, no, it’s just sweat,’ is not going to help with the situation because that’s also gross.
Upper lip sweat
You and your watery moustache. You are like an aqueous Clark Gable. It’s catching the light and glinting like phosphorescence, but you know you can’t wipe or dab it because you’ll end up with lipstick halfway across your face, like Heath Ledger as the Joker. So it must sit there. And collect. Like a gully.
If this were sex sweat, it would be OK. But it’s not sex sweat. It’s aggravated-on-a-hot-day-and-wearing-the-wrong-bra sweat. You look like you’re somewhere between spontaneous lactation and having spilt your drink down your top. Both of which are not good.
Under boob sweat
It just makes you want to take your top off, hold them both up and get them directly under an air conditioner/hand dryer to dry them off.
Middle boob sweat
Like Middle Earth and its fiery Mount Doom, but with boobs.
Back of the knee sweat
How can such a tiny area be capable of generating so much heat? It’s like a tiny furnace back there. And when you stand up? Well? There’s dribble.
Now your hair looks greasy and that is not a reflection of the truth because you only washed it this morning and now you look like you’re some slovenly wastrel who doesn’t tend to the most basic personal hygiene standards. And people keep trying to touch your neck affectionately and then they VISIBLY RECOIL IN HORROR.
The perspiration is one thing. But did it really need to bring the red blotches to the party too?
It’s practically a water slide back there. Who wants to grab a rubber mat and plunge down the crevice? Oh God.