Sniff, Sniff ...

It’s interesting how smell can permeate everything. I grew up in a town where you could tell which section of town someone lived in just by their smell. There were folk that smelled like the steel mill. There were people that smelled like paint fumes from the Ford assembly plant. There were folks that smelled like wood smoke from the poorer sections of town. There was one kid that smelled like rye bread.

These days, thanks to the Oregon Clean Air Act you can go just about anywhere and not smell anything. Sure the tire shop will always smell like new tires and a new car will hopefully always smell like a new car, but you can go and spend an entire evening in a bar and not leave smelling like tobacco smoke. You can go into a restaurant and leave without a trace of any ethnic culture wafting from your clothing.

This comes to mind because I had coffee with a friend this week in a local coffee house that also serves food. When I got back into my truck I could smell all these food smells on me. Hours later I could still smell their food on me and I didn’t even eat anything. After an hour of not being able to shake the smell my mind started equating it as a stink. I eventually had to go home, shower and change.

As an end result, I probably won’t be going there again. So, all you readers can add that to my list of quirks. I know you’re keeping track.