To the left of my temp reception desk sits a large metal vase full of large, pink lillies. Their pungent, unique odour, recalls memories of my last few months in Vancouver.
You may recall, if you read BATC, that I declared defeat and decided to try being completely single on the 5th of March, 2009.
This lasted all of one week.
Enter: *Mr. Lamborghini Weenie, or LW for short.
He was intriguing. 28, CEO and owner of a company he built in his early 20’s, swanky high rise apartment overlooking English Bay, vegan, attractive, intelligent, ADHD, OCD, horrendous fashion sense…blah, blah,blah.
He always had fresh bouqets of flowers around his apartment. His flower of choice was the pink lily. His entire apartment smelled of the pungent, fruity odour. So much so, that my clothes took on the odour as well. He never did reveal the source of these flowers, always in fresh supply, always pink lilies. And, in the end, it really didn’t matter, nor did I care.
I wouldn’t say that the smell brings back bad memories. I wouldn’t say it brings back fond ones either. But it does bring back memories of a life that feels so far away at the moment, even though it was only a few months ago.
*he was obsessed with buying a Lamborghini and it just rhymes so well with weenie