Pardon Moi? You Smelled Me?

About nine months after ex and I broke up I started dating. To say that I was making up for lost time would be an understatement. One might even say I had a lot of “wild oats” to sow (how does one sow wild oats?) I dated a lot. I had a lot of fun. I had zero interest in finding a “relationship”. I was 27 years old and just out of an almost 10 year relationship.

There is a certain type of man totally drawn to women who have no interest in relationships. These men are fun, adventurous and a bit whorish. They were full of tacky pick up lines that made me chuckle. They would woo you with insincere flattery all the while thinking they were going to get them some of that. I didn’t really care. They made me laugh and they looked good, those were my pre-requisites for a date, at that time in my life. Shallow? Totally, but I think I deserved a few shallow years.


One of the guys I dated was a bouncer at a local club. So McYummy…hmmmm, sigh…oh yeah, where was I? Ok, so we were seeing each other in September 2001. I only remember this because I remember spending nights sitting on my couch until the wee hours of the morning watching coverage of 9/11. Let’s call him Chris, because that’s his name. Chris and I spent about 3 months dating off and on. If I had nothing else going on on a Friday night, I’d email him and say, “Hey, what’s going on after work?” He’d email me back, “Not much, pick me up at 2:00am?” and we’d hang out until the next morning when I had to pick kids up or he had to go home and sleep. Ok, let’s be honest here….he was my boy toy and this would be a prime example of a booty call.

As boy toys are prone to do, we drifted apart. I can’t remember if he got bored with me or if I got bored with him. One of us got bored. He worked at the club where the girls and I often went on Saturday nights. It was a big place and I very rarely ran into him. One evening after being at the club, I came home and checked my email before hitting the hay. An msn message popped up from him. The conversation went like this:

Chris: You were at the club tonight.
 Me: Yeah I was. I didn’t see you. How did you know I was there?

Chris: I smelled you.

*crickets*

WHAT? What the hell… he smelled me? I’m thinking to myself … I so do not stink you fucker. Just because we’re not “seeing” each other anymore does not give you the right to lie about me you bastard. You wait until the next time I see you you’re gonna regret that remark. If you think I’m scared of you just because you’re some big bad bouncer you have got another thought coming you son of a bitch I am so goingtokickyourasssixwaysfromSunday.

I answered:

Me: Excuse me? You smelled me?

Chris: Yeah. Have I never told you that? (at this point I’m hyperventilating with anger and yes, mortification) Whatever it is you wear…it smells really good and it’s quite distinctive. You smell really good, you always do. You’re the only person that smells that way. So yeah, I could smell you. I didn’t actually see you, but we must have been in the same area around 12:30 because I could smell that distinct smell…whatever it is you wear.

I used to wear body lotion with ylang ylang. It did have a very distinct smell. But for this guy to be able to pick it out in a CLUB FULL of people. Holy hannah the man was a damn fox hound (in more ways than one). We were indeed in the same area at 12:30 because I had been on the payphone calling a friend, which was also where he was at the time.

I really thought this guy was full of shit and just hoping I’d be flattered and ask him to come over. I didn’t (and don’t) flatter that easily. Two years later my former boss (who was a good friend, female and straight) said to me, “Whatever lotion it is that you wear, you need to stop. It smells so good it makes me want to lick you. I walk into an office and I know if you’ve been there before me because I can smell you.” Huh, I guess my former boy toy wasn’t full of shit after all.

So I used to smell. I do not smell anymore. They discontinued the line about 3 years ago and I have not been able to find the same stuff anywhere else. Trust me, I’ve looked