Let me set the scene . . .
We stayed in St. George this weekend for a couple of nights with Aaron's parents. On Sunday morning we woke up late, and didn't have time to shower before church. We threw on our clothes, shoveled some food in our mouths, went to Sacrament meeting, scurried back to the the hotel room, ate some lunch, cleaned up the hotel room, packed up the car, and then headed out into the sun to catch some rays by the pool before heading back to our cold homefront.
Before we got onto the freeway, we stopped at the local Chevron to gas up. Aaron and I both stood at the counter in front of the cashier, waiting to pay for our gasoline.
"MMMMMMMM. Do you mind if I ask you what scent you are wearing?" the cashier asked.
I looked around the gas station to see who she was talking to. Her eyes were staring straight at me. I was flabbergasted.
"Yes, what are you wearing? she asked again. "You smell so good."
Always socially backward, I replied, "Perhaps it is burnt skin . . . or maybe, maybe it is my gum?" I was grasping at straws here.
She kept staring at me, trying to figure out where my fabulous odor was coming from. I explained to here that we'd been laying out by the pool, and that I hadn't even showered.
She spoke again. "You must just have a really great natural scent. Some people do you know. Yum!"
I was flabbergasted. You never know when you are going to find out something new about yourself. Who knew that I "smelled" good? Maybe I'll head over to the local mall and try to market my "scent" to the perfume people. I could at least sell one bottle of myself to that nice girl at the gas station.