I have forgotten to mention others of the smells that have plague my life:
My wife Limpy has a laptop that smells like B.O.–as in B2O of the periodic table. We’re talking eye-wateringly, nose-bleedingly, cab-driving, living, breathing body odor. Hers is not the only one, many other laptops built by Apple smell bad too. No amount of febreeze will fix it. The odor bleeds from the very PLASTIC the casing is made from.
When I was a freshman at SUU, I lived in the dorms. In the lobby of the dorm, where they sell food from vending machines, there is a stark, bilious puke smell. I didn’t buy a lot of snack-food that year.
At the funeral of a B-list friend, (meaning we don’t hang, but we end up seeing each other a lot–well until he died suddenly; it was very sad. A-list friends are your core friends.) some of the grandkids were singing a happy-sad song called “Grandpa’s Garden.” About halfway through the song, one of the rosy-cheeked cherub-children turned around and yacked all over the place–which would have made me B-list friend laugh endlessly if he weren’t the one in the casket. When the stomach-emptying smell finally circulated to the back row, I was forced to leave. The strong compelling force that contributed to me leaving was the combined smell of the second-hand happy meal along with the laughter I was holding back. I truly feel bad about my lack of reverence for the situation–but not at the expense of me laughing giddily.
Yeah, that’s about all I want to share on this topic.