In the early 90s I worked at a bicycle shop. On a Saturday I was alone behind the counter when a friendly gentleman asked for trousers fat. This reduces friction when cycling and keeps the skin cool. At the time unknown with the matter I sold the man a pot. A week later he came to explain sportingly how he had hung his notes in the washbasin of the nearest gas station to be able to accept the short trip. I turned out to have sold him a big pot of tiger balm.
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