Cents, Scents, Senses, Fairy Moans, and Mr. Irresistible

I just got out of the tub. I trimmed the beard, shaved, washed all of my parts, and now I smell rather nice.

Mmmmm. Come on over and smell me. Only 50 cents a sniff.

***

I guess I'm particular about smells. Everyone probably knows that, even after seven years of changing diapers, I'm not much better at handling the gross smells.

I don't like many laundry smells either. We drove past a laundromat today that was stinking up the whole block. Blech.

***

But I certainly like some scents as well. I think that perfume is nice when it's discovered, you know? I don't want to walk into a cloud of it. I want to notice it in a more intimate exchange. And I'll leave it at that, lest this entry start to read like a chapter in some Harlequin novel.

***

For me, I still like the scent of vetivert, though it's an elusive thing. I fell in love with it one spring in New Orleans. The magnolia trees were blooming, the cool breeze was blowing, and at some little festival at a plantation I caught a whiff of it. I told MOBB, "This is my scent" that very moment.

It's from the root of a grassy plant over there, but it's still sort of elusive, if that makes any sense. The vetivert scents I've purchased have run a wide gamut. It seems that the purest ones are a bit cloying, almost medicinal. Not right, dang it. Smells nice in the bottle, but not on me.

One came in a lotion that MOBB brought me from Italy last year. I think I just finished it tonight after my shave. It's good, really a fine smelling lotion. Wish I had more.

And then there's the cologne, spelled "Vetyvert," which we ordered from some obscure catalogue. It's nice! It's not quite as pure smelling as I'd prefer, but really it's become my scent. I've got lots left too.

***

My favorite scent ever, however, was a pheromone cologne called Andron.

You can go ahead and laugh. I'll wait.

It was a gift I received in high school from... Dad? My stepmother? Can't recall.

Are you familiar with pheromone colognes? Seems they're made with some variation of the smell we produce as part of our body's natural attempt to attract the opposite sex. I don't even know if they're made anymore.

Andron was made with pig sweat. Yes yes, you're laughing again. I'll wait.

Anyway, the idea, then, is that your average guy--let's use a peach-fuzzed 17-year-old with only pipe dreams of ever knowing the touch of a woman, for example--sprays on this stuff and BOOM, he becomes Mr. Irresistible.

***

It didn't exactly work.

My attention from the opposite sex didn't increase one bit. That is, whereas I'd gotten no attention before, well, I continued to get no attention.

And I'm pleased to report that it garnered no attention from my own gender. It probably would have been more than my extremely hetero 17-year-old mind could have handled anyway.

***

But it did attract someone.

Me.

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I absolutely LOVED it.

Love love loved it.

It smelled terrific.

So terrific, in fact, that when I wore it I spent loads of time just... smelling myself. I'd just bathe in the stuff, then spend as much time in class as I could with my head on my desk, the pig sweat-laden scent overwhelming my sense of smell.

***

Now, yeah, I admit that this stuff was overwhelming, and something I enjoyed way too much.

But it didn't have... you know, THAT effect on me. I loved it and all, but it wasn't arousing in any way. Really.

I was 17. The whole world was arousing enough without this stuff adding to that.

***

The bottle didn't last long.

***

Another crazy week looms. Ya'll have a good one.