I've been having kind of a strange week and it appears I'm not the only one. For instance, this afternoon I observed the awkward end of what I can imagine was supposed to be a romantic gesture, when a young woman, who was being chauffeured down the sidewalk perched on the handlebars of her date's bike, suddenly discovered that one of the handle breaks had torn through the seat of her sweats and lodged itself in a tangle of torn cotton-spandex threads. It took them forever to find a way of getting her untangled without them both falling over. I walked very slowly so as to see her triumphant escape. Luckily, she handled it pretty graciously.
Then, there was the woman in Sears today who discovered a small area of the women's apparel department smelled like old feet. I was a few feet away from her, browsing through the clearance section, trying to find an appropriate item to spend my $10 Rewards Card on (turns out it was expired anyway):
Her: Do you smell that?
Me: No.
Her: It smells terrible. I just didn't want you to think it was me.
Me: I believe it isn't you.
Her: Can you come here and smell it for me?
Me: Sure!
I went over to where she was standing. She backed away a few feet (to prove the smell wasn't coming from her, presumably), and sure enough, the area wreaked of feet...or old cheese...or mildew. Possibly a combination of all three. I can only assume the night before, staff had put on their three-week-old gymwear, made a nest out of old socks, and had a picnic of aged cheese sandwiches to celebrate the start of the spring fashion season. I reassured the woman that the place did smell pretty funky.
Her: Phew. I thought I was hallucinating that smell. Just wanted to make sure I wasn't going crazy.
And then she walked away. My day is always brightened when I share a scent experience with a stranger.
No comments:
Post a Comment