'Would you like to smell the most amazing perfume in the world?' says a rather creepy possibly botoxed face which sits askew his skull.
"I'm not sure' I say.
He pulls out a smelly litmus paper and waves it under my nose.
'Don't you want to drive men crazy?' he says.
'Not really, I've had a few crazy men, I didn't like it.'
'Don't you need a new perfume, don't you need a secret weapon, just one day a week, a secret weapon?'
'No' I say. 'I don't think a weapon is the arsenal in which I need to find a man'
'But don't you want to drive men crazy just one day a week with a secret weapon?'
'No' I say sniffing the paper which smells like cheap air freshener. 'I do not want an arsenal of this product as a weapon to make a man crazy. No, thank you'
By this stage I wonder what on earth the perfume is he is trying to flog. I walk over to his counter.
There it is, the glorious weapon that will drive a man crazy.
'Sexual'. Really? Thats the name. Yes. 'Sexual.' Subtle and understated.
Nothing to see or smell here.