The last part of my day was the hardest to make myself do. I was so done with this cloud constantly accompanying me. My partner and I went with a friend to a concert (Kishi Bashi), that night. I almost changed clothes, before I went out (by then everything that had been near my body or my backpack reeked of the oil). I was able to make myself wear the same thing, but left my backpack at home. I put the tissues covered in lavender into my sweater pocket. When we got to the venue, I sat in the car for a minute, after my boyfriend got out, and finished the last ¼ of the bottle of oil. I put some on each of my lower and upper legs, and refreshed the tissues (though they did not need it, at all).
Walking into the Grey Eagle was one of the most psychologically intense moments of my life. I had to consciously make my legs take each step. Though I had spent the day doing this, in all kinds of locations, the idea of going into a crowded venue and staying there for an extended period of time created knots in my stomach. I tried to get my boyfriend to pick up the tickets, but they were under my name, so I had to get right into the group of people lining up. Thankfully, the process was quick and fairly painless. I think the staff was so busy with ticketing and other people, they couldn’t have taken the time to process the olfactory intrusion and the other patrons were not affected because the process went so quickly. Also, it was difficult for me to pay attention to the reactions around, while I was interacting with the staff, so I may have missed any non-verbal cues or anything outside of my narrowed field of attention.
Waiting in line for food and drinks was another thing. The couple behind me kept a few feet back, but I wasn’t aware of any comments being made. After I ordered, I sat at a table, near two people who had just finished eating, but there seemed to be no responses. When I went to get a second cider, there was a group of 5-6 people standing at the bar, but it wasn’t very busy. I walked past the group and stood next to them at the bar. A girl in the middle of the group (more than 5 feet away from me at all times) asked the group, “What is that smell?” To which another replied, “It smells like Yuengling (the beer, maybe?).” The initial “smeller” replied, “No, it smells nostalgic.” I wanted to reply, “Like grandma,” but I kept my mouth shut, listened to them start a conversation about how smells can transport someone to another place and time, got my drink, and walked away.
Sitting outside, waiting for the show to begin, I made sure the smells were as prominent as possible. I took out one of the many napkins infused with lavender oil and stuck it in the cracks of the picnic table. As my boyfriend started to get a bit of an alcohol buzz, his mouth started more openly complaining about the experiment (I must say here, he was not talking openly about it, just using every euphemism or exaggerated facial expression he had in his arsenal—his obedience/compliance to my requests seems to be something I need to work on…). I pulled the “obedience to my instructor” card and threatened him with bodily harm, if he screwed up my research. He moved seats, to sit across from me, as he thought it was more upwind.
Our friend showed up a short time after this exchange. He sat in the same place that my partner had previously been complaining about. A guy with a Grateful Dead shirt (Make America Grateful Again) walked up to the table (within 2 feet of me and the oil soaked napkin) and asked my partner for a cigarette. His shirt instigated a political discussion, of sorts. Though my boyfriend and friend were being their typical asshole selves, the guy’s group started to gather around us and then they took it upon themselves to sit at the table and continue to socialize. This is something I am constantly curious about—my friends and I go to a public place, do not instigate any outside socialization, in fact, we try to keep purposefully outside of the normal realm of social expectations (in this example, we are condescending, argumentative, taunting, ridiculing, thought challenging, visually outstanding, AND olfactory assaulting) and people are drawn to striking up and maintaining interactions. Thankfully, the opening act started playing and saved us from having to continue our games (it is a lot of work, trying to make people dislike you). None of this group seemed to take notice to the smell, or the insulting nature of my group’s conversation.
By this time, my boyfriend was completely shocked that no one had verbally or physically shown that they were bothered by the scent emanating from our area. He was definitely trying to give our friend hints or “ins” to discussing the situation. Our friend was completely oblivious to the subject of our comments, but the look on his face was becoming concerned and curious. He was trying to follow the gaze of each of our eyes, even looking at the napkin occasionally (by following our gaze), then returning to our eyes (for clues). We were making jests about how absolutely awful it was, how I have to be obedient (but my boyfriend didn’t), about how I never am obedient (so what made me go through with it, this time?), about how I could have just faked “it” and made a story up (I am a horrible liar and story teller), and about how hilarious it was that our intelligent friend was listening to this exchange for this long and he still couldn’t figure it out—all the while, with him just sitting there with ever changing expressions of confusion. I could see him trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter (he kept making a furled brow in my direction, but I would not respond similarly, so his expression would shift to trying to look away or think of something else to discuss). I could tell that he could tell we were teasing him and he was trying very hard to ignore the uncomfortable questioning feelings building inside of his brain. This process took approximately 30 minutes of back and forth comments, with breaks in between of otherwise circumstantial discussion.
Finally, my boyfriend couldn’t stand it (he was several drinks in, by this point) and asked, “Don’t you smell it?” To which, our friend responded, “What? Yeah, there is something, I guess.” I moved the napkin closer to him and he took a big whiff, without putting his face too close to it. His eyes widened and his expression was one of disgust. His expression then changed quickly and became one of relief washing across his face. He finally understood what we were being weird about! All he could say about the smell was, “I just thought there was a hippie around.” He had not even considered that the scent could have been coming from me. His schema of me did not include this olfactory variable, but the one he had of “hippies” did.
Once the show started, we went inside. I stood in an area of the room, on the outer edges of the crowd, but close enough to see the stage (all normal for me). My partner was still refusing to get too close to me, but our friend was hanging out right there with me. I was close to what seemed to be a couple. As the show went on, the girl got super close to the guy with her, going as far as putting her head into his armpit area. Whether it was the low-tempo acoustic nature of the opening songs, or my odor, I will never know. Less than a song later, she was taking him away somewhere else. I would like to think I ran them off.
Obviously, at this point, I was trying to enjoy the show. I kept an eye on my surroundings, but there was no way to be aware of everything (I had also had a couple drinks). I still could not escape my own misery, but I could at least have some fun. It was almost over. Finally, close to the end of the show, my boyfriend came up behind me and put his hand on my hip. He couldn’t be at a concert and not be near me, as much as he tried. I think his knowledge of the experiment had caused him to experience increased the salience of the smell (I know that is one of the things I experienced), but he was finally able resolve his dissonance.
There were a few other interactions I had throughout the day, but these were the most impactful—either to my own comfort level, or that which I perceived in others. I was the most grateful human, to be able to take my clothes off and get in the shower. Before this day, I thought my shower gel was almost too strongly scented. That night, I appreciated it more than ever for getting the other smell out of my nose. It was especially nice when the smell faded over the next hour or so that I was awake. The next day, I still smelled the lavender on my backpack and in the dining room. It took two days to mostly diminish. I will never again pour almost a whole bottle of essential oil on anything and if, as accidents happen, I do, whatever is touched will be incinerated.
This research was difficult, but the justification of completing an assignment was enough to solve any dissonance I had throughout the day. My ability to be attentive to every response was tested over and over again. It was difficult to attribute the paralanguage of those around me to the behavior I was exhibiting or some other internal or external influence. My favorite exchange was that between my boyfriend, myself, and our friend. If my partner had not been an accomplice in the research, I do not think I would have ever gotten the information about our friend’s attribution of the scent.
Though I will never do this exact experiment again, I will always do the little deviant things I like to do. This research taught me to be more observant of the reactions to those around. I also learned that I cannot always count on my ability to perceive the responses of those around me and attribute them to the correct stimuli.
Thank you for reading!
Link to Part 1-- https://steemit.com/psychology/@puddles/deviant-for-a-day-part-1
