You Smell Purdy.

I was on the bus today and this horrible, loud, tacky, cell phone talking woman got on. From my seat I could see her argue with the driver about something or another all the while keeping her cell phone firmly pressed to her face,(I hate that). Once their debate was resolved she started walking towards the only empty seat on the bus. The one right next to me. An unrestrained sense of doom overtook me at the thought of having to spend part or all of the next hour of my commute sitting next to this sterling example of sensory offensiveness. I had already decided to bail at the next stop. I figured waiting half an hour for the next bus in the rain was better than spending any extended period of time next to this ringtone harpy. But then something strange happened. As she sat down and unapologetically invaded much more of my personal sapce than was necessary, something went off in the olfactory part of my brain. She smelled like caramel. I once loved a girl who smelled like caramel. Ahh... caramel. In an instant all the malice and hate I held for this woman turned from stone to sand and poured harmlessly through my fingers onto the floor of my psyche. I almost felt wings spout out of my back as I was aromatically reminded of a beautiful love I once had. Then I remembered how that girl dumped my ass and all of a sudden I was out in the rain waiting for the next bus. Isn't the sense of smell strange and wonderful?