Smelling memories

There is something about the way someone smells that sticks with you. Yesterday, I was at the drug store and the cashier smelled like my friend Rebecca. I didn’t even know that I knew what Rebecca smelled like, but as soon as the cashier started talking to me and her hair caught the air, I smelled Rebecca. They must use the same conditioner. And the other day, Nick came in from grilling chicken in the backyard and he smelled like charcoal, freshly cut grass and dusk, which reminded me of my dad. Any time I smell Polo Sport cologne, I remember Jim, whom I dated in college for under three months. Dove body wash reminds me of my high school boyfriend David and Poison perfume reminds me of my mom. I wonder if people remember me when a certain scent slides past their nose. In high school, I wore Dream by the Gap and then in college, I flirted with Clinique Happy, Ralph Lauren Ralph and vanilla body splash from Bath and Body Works until I decided "my scent" would be Victoria’s Secret’s Pink. But having a "scent" gets expensive and seems a little bit fake. So, I hardly buy it and usually probably smell like suave lotion, hair gel and worry mixed with determination. If only determination and worry had a wonderful, fragrant scent - perhaps then, I'd smell like a bouquet of flowers.