Scent Ninja

Yesterday, I brought my own soap to the gym. I have nothing against the soap they supply but I had a bottle of "body wash" I'd received as a gift just sitting on a shelf. I decided I should use it up. I'm not a huge fan of liquid body soaps - I'd much prefer a good old-fashioned bar, which is what I use at home. I guess I kind of like that buffer between my hand and my body. Liquid soaps require much more contact than I comfortable with. Still, I had this bottle and it was easy enough to bring it along. The soap at the gym is also a liquid body wash, so there's not that much of a difference.

There are a couple of things that I immediately noticed about my new soap. First, was its color: bright purple, almost iridescent. Second was its scent: strong, spicy, and vaguely familiar. I lathered up liberally, not terribly concerned with running out - after all, that was the point of bring it in the first place. It's called a body wash and I took that quite literally, applying the soap from head to toe.

I go to the gym a couple of times a week, during my lunch hour. It takes the full hour to get to the gym, run, shower, and get back. I have time for everything on my lunch hour except lunch. I'm usually a little damp as I slip back into my cube. I'd like to believe this is because I didn't towel off well enough. I know it's really because my body is slow in switching out of "sweat mode". Yesterday, I was again rushing to get back in time.

As I drove back to work I was aware of my new scent. I tried to convince myself that I was smelling the towel in my gym bag, but I knew that wasn't the case. I sniffed an arm and confirmed that, indeed, I was the source. The smell wasn't overwhelming but it was definitely noticeable. I typically try to be scent neutral, to not contribute any odor be it offensive or not. I don't always succeed at this but I try. I know guys whose cologne announces their arrival seconds before you see their face. That's not who I want to be. I'd rather be a scent-ninja, invisible, in the shadows.

As I settled into my chair, I sat there, smelling myself, waiting for the odor to wear off. Instead, the smell seemed to be getting stronger. I hoped that, as my moist body dried, the odor would abate. I closed my eyes and tried to remember where I'd smelled this smell before - it was certainly familiar. Then it struck me - this was the same scent as the deodorant I favored back in high school, back when I was no scent-ninja. A flood of memories and emotions washed over me without rinsing out this odor from my past.