I just passed by a copier repairman whose scent immediately reminded me of a guy I dated eons ago. Unfortunately my memories of him aren’t good, as neither is the scent. It’s metallic-y and pungent, but only slightly so. He would come home from work smelling like this every day after climbing in attics and under houses. When things were good between us, while I didn’t like the smell, it didn’t bother me. When things were bad though — it made my stomach turn. Smelling it just now did nothing positive or negative, it just floored me with the thought of him. Memories of him are never good.
Scent is a powerful attraction. It’s what the animal kingdom relies on. They say a scent can also be a powerful memory trigger and this technician proved that, albeit in a detracting kind of way.
Not all are bad though. My strongest “good” scent memory was in my very early twenties. My company was actually a client of his company, and a few of us were at an evening social function; a dinner of some kind. I was extremely attracted to him. Truth be told there was a mutual attraction to one another, but something kept the lid on things. I was pretty young. Maybe he was married. I don’t recall the details anymore. I do remember that particular night and when he leaned over to talk to me, his breath held this warm scotch scent with a very faint woodsy odor of a good cigar. The smell tickled me. It enveloped me and made my knees weak. It was the close proximity, how I could inhale and feel the warmth of his breath on me. It was simply put, the smell of lust. To this day, the right person breathes that similar scent and it takes me back. My knees feel the slightest bit rubbery. I couldn’t recall his name to save my life, but I can recall his signature scent.
My desires for what smells good has changed a lot over the years. I haven’t been an English Leather lover since I was 16. I don’t get weak from Obsession for Men, or Aramis. But what smells bad? That never changes.