Who Keeps Using My "Every Man Jack"?

This past Summer, I was a guest at a summer-share rental at the Jersey Shore. It was a house full of guys, me and 1 other girl.  I knew there would be guy-shenanigans of every kind: beer at 8am, missing toilet paper, an entire fridge filled with nothing but beer (not a big drinker, but it was fun to see).

It shouldn't have been too shocking when I found myself in the shower, soaking wet, with no soap options except for a body wash called "Every Man Jack".

I remember thinking, "Ugh, a guy's soap" as I thought of the horrid woodland musks of yesterday's past. Bracing myself for the horror, I tentatively sniffed the bottle.

It was citrus. Happy, wake-yo'-ass-up-orange!  I was even more thrilled to find that it had gentle exfoliating beads in it.

So, I did what any girl would do.  I started to "secretly" use it in small, rationing-type dollops.

Of course I had to stop that the day I heard: "WHO KEEPS USING MY EVERY MAN JACK?", but by then our shore-adventures had come to a close.

Thanks, Nick. :)

Soapy moral of the story: Don't judge a soap by it's packaging (or marketing for that matter).