The karma of personal hygiene has the longest lifecycle of all.

I was in my local pharmacy picking up a prescription. This should have been a routine operation. But in possibly the most insignificant consequence of global warming to society, the intense heat of the last few couple of weeks has opened my pores to bacteria and insults. All my sweat metrics off the charts:

• Sweat per pound (weight)
• Sweat per foot (height)
• Sweat per pound (sterling)
• Sweat per foot (limb appendages).

My current local is the best I’ve been to – the staff are helpful, diligent and kind. Today’s events provide more evidence of the first two but have put the latter into question.

Things started well, my prescription was ready, I took it with a polite smile and turned to leave. The shop operates a one-way system which I generally respect. Customers enter to the left of the central aisle, shimmy round the hairpin and accelerate out the other side. But today I felt the need for an unnecessary show of independence. I fired out a three-point turn and was just about to put my foot down to go back to whence I came… when I was instantly punished (driving on the wrong side of the road has one of the shortest karma lifecyles out there).

One of the ladies asked me, “Can I give you some free skincare samples?”

I immediately realised she wasn’t asking, and before I knew it I was holding a bag which was 20% what I came for, and 90% what I didn’t (the bag was overflowing). I left in stunned silence, scared to accept what had happened… I’d just been Lynx Africa’d!

Lynx Africa’ing (verb, origin: noughties Britain) is when the person you sit next to at school smells and you’re too scared to tell them to their face, so you buy them deodorant as a subtle hint that they need to start using it.
It sees you call a family meeting to discuss your options. The meeting goes as follows:

You: Guy next to me smells. And it’s too awkward to tell him to his face.
Sister: You mean you’re too scared.
You: Let’s open it up to the room.
Dad: It’s parents’ evening soon. We can tell your teacher and get you moved.

You notice your mum looks unimpressed. But you like the option a lot – a sensitive issue is dealt with by someone other than you.

You: Wow thanks Dad, you’d really do that for me? What if his parents are behind you when you say it?
Dad (ruffling your hair): Oh sorry son, I can’t make it to the next one.

He’s been to the last four in a row taking the glory of strong academic results, plus the date of the next one isn’t even set yet. Your mum’s look makes sense. He turns to her, but she shakes her head and he doesn’t even try and ask.

Then your sister goes and grabs something from the cupboard under the stairs. You hope you’re getting a Hedwig. You aren’t. She hands you a Lynx Africa deodorant and shower gel gift set instead.

You: It’s not his birthday and it’s not Christmas.
Sister: It’s Halloween.
You: Interesting… And this qualifies as a trick or a treat?
Sister: Treat if he takes it, trick if he punches you in the face.

You hope the hint is as strong as the spray and give it him the next day.
But you’re schoolkids so it’s not a strong enough hint. It dawns on you the correct course of action was to dip a glove in a puddle, slap the guy round the face with it while shouting the customary “Wet fish!“, flourish with the nonstandard “And you smell like one too!“, and then run away (forgetting you have to sit next to him in next period, where he is now wet and smelly, and you’re a nob).

You then begin to wonder why your sister had a Lynx Africa gift set on hand to give you…

I searched intently for flaws in the ladies’ pores, but there were none I could identify. I left humbled and made sure to follow the one-way system out. In some kind of trance, I didn’t even remember the walk home (although I did get the bus).

I got home and inspected my haul (it felt like going to Primark and getting home having no idea what you bought). It was worse than I thought, the products were not just for one or two defects, but they covered almost every facial ailment:

• Facial scrub
• Facial cleanser
• Facial moisturiser
• Hydrating mist toner (yeah I’m not sure either)
• Day cream
• Shampoo
• A delightful pink clay facial masque which gently extracts impurities and environmental pollutants to leave skin looking radiant and clear

I called a family meeting, it went as follows:

Me: The pharmacy gave me a load of skincare free samples.
Dad: Shampoo isn’t a skincare product.
Me: Yeah I know, but it’s still a prob- wait! how do you know what I got?!
Dad: It was a matter of time.
Mum: Were their dad’s not around to tell you?

Dad cut her a glare.

Sister: You still owe me back for the Lynx Africa.
Me: That was 20 years ago!
Sister: Personal hygiene karma has a long lifecycle.
Me: So I’m learning…

But I yielded and agreed to give them to her.

Me: Any other business?
Mum: Did you really make us come up to London just for this?
Me: Meeting adjourned!

But at the very least, I’ve learnt the exact mechanism which makes free samples such an effective marketing strategy.