samurai photographer can't smell.
People who know me well know that I cannot smell anything. It's not psychosomatic, it's not the result of dental work (or lack thereof), and it's not because of a cold. It's an actual medical condition that has been studied at length.
It's something that I have lived with all my life, and I think I've dealt with it pretty well, considering. Of course there have been a few times where it's been a problem - like the time I poured spoiled milk into my iced coffee and proceeded to guzzle it down, while my co-workers watched, saucer-eyed. Or the handful of gas-related "incidents" that resulted in singed hair, passing out, or both.
When I purchase personal grooming items, such as bath stuff from Lush, I always ask the salespeople to tell me how things smell, because I can't. I use deodorant religiously because I would never know if I had BO. I live in fear that my blazers smell of stale smoke after I wear them to a party.
There's the upside as well. My chosen profession requires me to be around noxious chemistry, and not being able to smell it means I can spend more time in the darkroom without feeling sick like some people do (though I do wear a respirator for the really toxic stuff like selenium.) My pal Steve, who lives in Chicago, remarked to me once as we walked by a stand crammed with day-old fish in Chinatown, that "New York smells like piss, even in the winter. You're lucky you can't smell it!" Then there's my enjoyment of smelly foods like durian, natto, and any number of dishes that taste excellent but probably have some kind of prohibitive aroma. It's these reasons that make it almost worth it to have this disability.
When someone learns that I cannot smell anything, they are usually incredulous. "C'mon," they say. "You can't smell ANYTHING?" Occasionally they will ask me to prove it by sticking their armpit in my face or somesuch. I just roll with it, because I think it's kinda funny.
Then there are the times when it is proven beyond a shadow of a doubt, like today. If you are from New York, or have spent any time here, you can relate:
My usual subway stop is a terminus. There's always car cleaners and MTA workers milling around. Presumably part of their job is to rouse sleeping homeless people from the trains, but I have never seen it happen myself. In any case, I got on the train and noticed, at the other end, a woman who I have seen on the train before but presume to be homeless, due to the large amount of bags she carries and her general appearance. I realize this makes me a lookist, but so be it.
Since she is at the complete opposite end of the car as me, I pay her no mind and sit down in "my seat" (I like to sit on the bench seats across from the conductor cabin) and listen to my iPod.
As the train makes stops, I notice people getting in the car and then at the next stop leave the train. This is normal with above-ground stations, so I am not really paying attention. As the train gets closer to Queensboro Plaza, I begin to notice that people aren't actually leaving the train, merely switching cars. The haste in which they switch - through the end doors, I might add, so these people are violating the new MTA rules - leads me to believe that they are escaping something foul.
Which leads me to wonder if you could get a transit cop to sypmathize with you in this situation. Is a really disgusting smell an emergency situation?
Since I can't smell this foulness for myself, I am still not sure. So when the train pulls into Queensboro Plaza and a crowd of people get on, I figure if it is really opressive, they will get right off. However, about a dozen people sit down in various places, so I think: it can't possibly be that bad.
As the train goes into the tunnel, as if someone has set off a bomb (hardy har har) a stream of people run for the door closest to me and switch cars. Several of them look at me, as if to say
ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY? CAN'T YOU SMELL THIS STENCH FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL?
I am in a bind. Is my calm presence in my corner seat luring these innocent people with working olfactory systems to their doom? Should I follow the crowd and go into the next car? Will my clothes be permeated by this odor, causing the salespeople at B&H to deny me service? I JUST DON'T KNOW. What should I do? What could I do? Stay or go? Sit and pretend nothing is wrong, or pretend I can actually smell this and go with the crowd? Conform? Or remain fiercely independent?
I debate this for at least three stops, and by the time I decide to stick it out because it is 49th street and I am getting out at 34th, I glance to my right and notice that the lady who has caused all this ruckus is gone.
Apparently, she has left something behind. It isn't one of her bags.
People in the car are talking to one another, noses covered by hands and scarves, trying to figure out what to do. If I had shut off my music I might have been able to hear them, but it was more amusing to not hear it - mostly because if I heard what they were actually saying I might be grossed out, and as of that moment I was in a blissfully ignorant state that only being sensorily-deprived can bring. I am positive that sentence is grammatically incorrect, but I left my AP stylebook at my last day job.
A couple standing across from me start talking very loudly, and since it is between songs I can hear them. They speak English with a European accent (perhaps German, I wasn't sure) and the woman, who is situated by the emergency brake, suggests she pull it because "I think this is an emergency."
It is this comment that causes me to break by little ignorance bubble. In the sternest, angriest, "that bitch is crazy" voice I can muster, I say
"Do not, under any circumstances, pull that brake. If you stop this train we will ALL be trapped in this car FOR 45 MINUTES and I think that is exactly where YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE TRAPPED RIGHT NOW."
My powers of persuasion must have worked, because they got off at 42nd street, along with practically everyone else in the car.
When I got out at 34th, I made sure to walk extra slow, and upon surfacing I purposely walked against the wind to try to blow the smell out of my clothes.
I think I am going to take an extra-long bath tonight, just in case.
It's something that I have lived with all my life, and I think I've dealt with it pretty well, considering. Of course there have been a few times where it's been a problem - like the time I poured spoiled milk into my iced coffee and proceeded to guzzle it down, while my co-workers watched, saucer-eyed. Or the handful of gas-related "incidents" that resulted in singed hair, passing out, or both.
When I purchase personal grooming items, such as bath stuff from Lush, I always ask the salespeople to tell me how things smell, because I can't. I use deodorant religiously because I would never know if I had BO. I live in fear that my blazers smell of stale smoke after I wear them to a party.
There's the upside as well. My chosen profession requires me to be around noxious chemistry, and not being able to smell it means I can spend more time in the darkroom without feeling sick like some people do (though I do wear a respirator for the really toxic stuff like selenium.) My pal Steve, who lives in Chicago, remarked to me once as we walked by a stand crammed with day-old fish in Chinatown, that "New York smells like piss, even in the winter. You're lucky you can't smell it!" Then there's my enjoyment of smelly foods like durian, natto, and any number of dishes that taste excellent but probably have some kind of prohibitive aroma. It's these reasons that make it almost worth it to have this disability.
When someone learns that I cannot smell anything, they are usually incredulous. "C'mon," they say. "You can't smell ANYTHING?" Occasionally they will ask me to prove it by sticking their armpit in my face or somesuch. I just roll with it, because I think it's kinda funny.
Then there are the times when it is proven beyond a shadow of a doubt, like today. If you are from New York, or have spent any time here, you can relate:
My usual subway stop is a terminus. There's always car cleaners and MTA workers milling around. Presumably part of their job is to rouse sleeping homeless people from the trains, but I have never seen it happen myself. In any case, I got on the train and noticed, at the other end, a woman who I have seen on the train before but presume to be homeless, due to the large amount of bags she carries and her general appearance. I realize this makes me a lookist, but so be it.
Since she is at the complete opposite end of the car as me, I pay her no mind and sit down in "my seat" (I like to sit on the bench seats across from the conductor cabin) and listen to my iPod.
As the train makes stops, I notice people getting in the car and then at the next stop leave the train. This is normal with above-ground stations, so I am not really paying attention. As the train gets closer to Queensboro Plaza, I begin to notice that people aren't actually leaving the train, merely switching cars. The haste in which they switch - through the end doors, I might add, so these people are violating the new MTA rules - leads me to believe that they are escaping something foul.
Which leads me to wonder if you could get a transit cop to sypmathize with you in this situation. Is a really disgusting smell an emergency situation?
Since I can't smell this foulness for myself, I am still not sure. So when the train pulls into Queensboro Plaza and a crowd of people get on, I figure if it is really opressive, they will get right off. However, about a dozen people sit down in various places, so I think: it can't possibly be that bad.
As the train goes into the tunnel, as if someone has set off a bomb (hardy har har) a stream of people run for the door closest to me and switch cars. Several of them look at me, as if to say
ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY? CAN'T YOU SMELL THIS STENCH FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL?
I am in a bind. Is my calm presence in my corner seat luring these innocent people with working olfactory systems to their doom? Should I follow the crowd and go into the next car? Will my clothes be permeated by this odor, causing the salespeople at B&H to deny me service? I JUST DON'T KNOW. What should I do? What could I do? Stay or go? Sit and pretend nothing is wrong, or pretend I can actually smell this and go with the crowd? Conform? Or remain fiercely independent?
I debate this for at least three stops, and by the time I decide to stick it out because it is 49th street and I am getting out at 34th, I glance to my right and notice that the lady who has caused all this ruckus is gone.
Apparently, she has left something behind. It isn't one of her bags.
People in the car are talking to one another, noses covered by hands and scarves, trying to figure out what to do. If I had shut off my music I might have been able to hear them, but it was more amusing to not hear it - mostly because if I heard what they were actually saying I might be grossed out, and as of that moment I was in a blissfully ignorant state that only being sensorily-deprived can bring. I am positive that sentence is grammatically incorrect, but I left my AP stylebook at my last day job.
A couple standing across from me start talking very loudly, and since it is between songs I can hear them. They speak English with a European accent (perhaps German, I wasn't sure) and the woman, who is situated by the emergency brake, suggests she pull it because "I think this is an emergency."
It is this comment that causes me to break by little ignorance bubble. In the sternest, angriest, "that bitch is crazy" voice I can muster, I say
"Do not, under any circumstances, pull that brake. If you stop this train we will ALL be trapped in this car FOR 45 MINUTES and I think that is exactly where YOU DO NOT WANT TO BE TRAPPED RIGHT NOW."
My powers of persuasion must have worked, because they got off at 42nd street, along with practically everyone else in the car.
When I got out at 34th, I made sure to walk extra slow, and upon surfacing I purposely walked against the wind to try to blow the smell out of my clothes.
I think I am going to take an extra-long bath tonight, just in case.
posted by Jodi S. at 5:35:00 PM
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