The worst thing about quitting smoking is that the whole world stinks. And I don't mean the world is a dreary place since I decided to deny myself one of life's greatest pleasures. I mean the world stinks.
Four weeks ago I walked in the world blissfully unaware of what it smelled like. Today, a stroll through the mall, or a quick jaunt across town, induces the olfactory equivalent of nails screeching down a chalkboard. Aside from the intrepid piss smell that permeates public transportation as naturally as clogs permeate Portland, getting on the bus used to be a relatively benign olfactory experience. Now, a bus ride is a malodorous assault on my virgin sniffer. Aqua Net, Downy, Pabst, Revlon, Marlboro, Calvin Klein: all agents of scentual harassment. And these are the masking scents.
Like the elephant exhibit, humanity smells like sh*%.
The ability to smell someone’s dirty hair and watermelon Bubblicious from five feet away is a horrifying side effect of not smoking. At school, I passed a guy in the hall that smelled like a combination of bad breath and leather waterproofing spray, and I had to move from my seat when someone sitting next to me smelled like moldy socks and salmon.
Yesterday I took a long bus ride home from the dentist and, unable to endure the stench of damp humans, I stuck my nose into the sleeve of my jacket and quietly pleaded for my old, dulled sense of smell back. I imagined sniffing bleach every day before I left the house to damage my olfactory cells. I thought about carrying around a small container of coffee beans that I could bury my nose in for bus trips, and I envisioned sneaking sniffs of whiskey from a flask during classes.
What happened to my right to choose what odors are allowed in? If I wanted to smell a pink geranium, I could lean in close, stick my nostrils right up to the blossom, and wah la. If I wanted to find out what my tomato soup smelled like, I could put my nose near the bowl and take a whiff. Twenty-seven days after my last breath of non-scented air, my right to a serenely odor-free existence has gone with the smoke.
According to the Daily Success calendar that came with the nicotine patches, Day 27 recommends: “Treat yourself to a bottle of cologne to celebrate your improved sense of smell.”
Listen, if you’ve ridden the #33 bus on a rainy day, you’d know there ain’t nothing to celebrate.
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3 comments:
Loved this! But no no no on the coffee beans. As soon as you remove your nose, everything else will smell even more... distinct.
I love this essay. I have to add that the world would stink in all possible means of that word if you do not smoke anymore. All imperfections of this universe (and some around it) will bother you much more and some of them will ultimately become very annoying…
Hi Autumn, to answer your question, I saw your comment on someone else's blog and I was in a following and exploring mood, that's how I found your blog. Glad I did. :)
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