The elevator doors open.

Out walks a nice looking woman.

A scruffy homeless looking man walks into the elevator and I follow.

The elevator doors shut.

Scruffy Man:    “You smell good.”

Me:    With assertion in my voice…“It’s not me.”

I had to chuckle to myself. Heaven forbid I give this guy any reason to think that I am the culprit to the enjoyment his nostrils are having. For goodness sakes, the way I just said it’s not me, you’d think I was claiming I smelt bad or something.

Scruffy Man:    “It must have been the lady that left the elevator. It smells like flowers.”

Me:    Counting the seconds for the doors to open so I can go on my merry way, smelling somewhat decent.