You Smell Like My Pillow

I had an odd day. Strange, even. Maybe it was just a Monday, or I was due for an unusual day, either way it was … odd.

Many puzzling things were said, unexpected things happened, and part of my day even felt like a dream, but… an odd one.

Contributing to the oddity was an elevator ride I took with a security guard at work this morning. I noticed him approaching the elevator as I was, and we did the whole ‘which one of us is going to press the call button’ dance. Always a strong indicator of an awkward elevator ride coming. As I got in and the doors closed, I thought about the fact that we’ve rarely spoken. He occasionally mumbles good morning, and I respond back politely hoping to sound cheerful, but not overly enthusiastic, because he strikes me as… um, weird.

You know what I mean by weird, one of those security guards you read about on CNN.com who has a coffee table full of militia magazines, failed the police psych eval, and lives in their mother’s basement? The one that eventually walked in somewhere and shot people up because a girl rejected them or because the grocery store didn’t have tangerines? You know who I’m talking about.

As visions of him with an AK47 danced through my head, I was interrupted by these words… “You smell like my pillow”. Trying to hide the ‘what the fuck’ eyebrows, I answered ” Come again?” to which he repeated “You smell like my pillow”.

The elevator doors opened and I hurriedly exited. He was right behind me and I was hoping to make a graceful entrance through the doors and past his desk without being compared to another inanimate object he slept on. Just then he said ” You know, like Downy”. BIG INHALE THROUGH THE NOSE. “Smells good!”

I laughed uncomfortably and said ” Oh really?” while my hands desperately sought the door handle. Once safely through the door, and almost past his desk, I responded with “Oh, must be my fabric softener” and hurried past. To my horror he passed his desk and followed me. “Yeah, definitely, I was trying to figure out what scent!” BIG INHALE THROUGH THE NOSE. “I think it’s the spring one with the flowers, am I right?”

We’re now 20 steps closer to my desk, and he’s still following me like I’m the Downy pied piper. I felt like the Snuggle bear with a flute dancing through a meadow.

As we approached my desk, I mumbled “I’mnotsuremaybeit’sGainorsomething”. I watched and waited as he stood there in front of my desk. I kept waiting to hear ‘GAIN?????? I HATE GAIN!!!! And so does my AK47!!!!” rata-tat-tat-tat-tat tat tat tat

Instead he simply replied, “Yeah, maybe” and walked away muttering ‘Downy… Pillow…. Mumble… Fresh… Towels… More mumbling’.

I came home, and pitched the fabric softener. It was Downy.