Mark another award winning comment up for me. While I was waiting in line for my latte, I noticed a heavenly aroma emanating from the businessman in front of me. It wasn’t cologne, it wasn’t deodorant, but it was mysterious and lovely. Since I happen to be surrounded on a daily basis by the good folks downtown that smell like infected catheter bags, I had to let this man know that I appreciated him, you know, in a completely olfactory sense.
Leaning in toward him a little I gave a bit of a sniff and said “Mmmmm, you smell…like candy”. And as soon as I said it, I realized how very, very wrong it seemed.
He gave me the exact same look that I give the lady that is wrapped in fourteen layers of winter clothing in August and who carries her collection of empty plastic bags everywhere she goes. I was sniffing him, I was talking to him, and I was bug nuts crazy.
But he did smell delicious.
Speaking of delicious, as I watched the X-Files yesterday (
I’ll bet David Duchovny smells like candy too) and the episode centered around the murderous happenings at a chicken processing plant whereupon people were being cooked and served like chicken, all I could think of was “Mmmmmm. Chicken.” Guess what we’re having for dinner tonight? An old friend! We’ll eat his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.
Actually this presents a disturbing trend. When I watched an abdominal surgery on tv a few weeks ago I came away with a hankering for some Jimmy Dean sausage links. Was there a subtle product placement somewhere? Was the colon transplant paid for by the Jimmy Dean sausage people? Or am I just a very sick girl?
I would bet on the latter.