Smells

I encounter a variety of smells in New York City on a daily basis. Today, I passed through five different smells on my two block walk from the subway to our apartment. Some good, some not so good.

I stepped out of the subway and waited for the light to change next to a sewer grate. I held my breath as a cloud of, literally, sewage engulfed me. I bounded across the street as soon as the light changed and dived headfirst into the sweet aroma of roasted nuts from the vendor on the corner.

I continued down the block and my mouth watered as I passed the Super Taco burrito truck. Warm tortillas and steak filled my nostrils and made my stomach growl in anticipation of dinner. The smell of black beans and rice lasted for only 30 seconds before a wave of fresh laundry placated the need to stuff my face with street meat.

I walked to the corner where I caught whiffs of rotten fruit from the garbage bags lining the sidewalk.  Laundry/rotten fruit/laundry/rotten fruit. I alternated nostrils and inhaled quickly depending on which way the wind blew. I focused so intently on my breathing that I almost missed my light. Luckily, the next half block was void of pungent fumes.

My short jaunt to and from the subway is a smorgasbord of smells. I've learned to inhale when appropriate, and I've learned to hold my breath and risk passing out from a lack of oxygen as well. I thought living for so long with my dad and my brother would have better prepared for a variety of foul odors, but I guess not.

Smells, both good and bad, are just a part of the city that I have to accept.