Scents

I was sitting at the Circulation Desk, minding my own business, when I was assaulted by a cloyingly sweet scent. I couldn't tell who was wearing it, but they must have jumped into the bottle feet first. My eyes were tearing up. Not that it was an unpleasant smell. In a smaller amount, I think I would have really liked it. The floral scent stayed in my face for well over an hour, long after the person who introduced it had left the building.

Later that afternoon, I once again encountered an overpowering scent, this time very musky and applied too too heavily. I began to speculate that the more frightened students become, the more likely they are to douse themselves in their favorite smell - a sort of olfactory comfort food. This time I was at the reference desk, and I simply got up and walked away, the strong scent following me the entire length of the information commons and half way up the stairs.

It must have been my day for les nez, because later that evening, a dear friend greeted me with a hug and once again I found myself engulfed in an overwhelming scent - this time an unusual combination of herbs and eucalyptus and mint and a few other savory things I couldn't name. This scent opened up every tiny space in my head and dripped into my lungs to expand the closed up spots. Whew! What a rush. I wonder if that's what sniffing glue is like?

Long after we separated, her unique perfume lingered. I discovered it on my hands and on my sweater later that evening. I could recall her presence just lifting my hand near my face. It was piquant to say the least, joltingly so.

I wonder what sort of lingering effect my presence might have on others. Do I leave an unpleasant sense, a jolting aliveness, an overpowering sweetness? Or do I have the right blend of pleasant and understated? After I am gone, do I leave behind a gagging stench or a happy memory? Definitely something I plan to pay attention to, now that I have had the object lesson!