remnants.

coffee grinds. barbeque sauce. freshly squeezed orange juice.

these smells are eternally ingrained into my skull, into the imprints of my brain. each one representing a job i've had in the past year and a half. every time i walk into the vicinity of a coffeemaker of any kind, something triggers my senses. i feel like they're heightened to a sense of alertness.
back to the fast-paced rush of a saturday morning at the coffee shop. not that it was ever really busy, but we'd get backed up since the store was doubled up with coffee and sandwiches. don't forget the danishes. we also served soup, too. but no one ever ordered that. whoosh, the drive thru window would slide open, and out goes the order of a wildberry blast and a club sandwich with no chips. fresh sunshine with the coffee aroma definitely welcomes good feelings.
or a fully booked party room on sunday evening. stacking plates onto tables, then passing them out with a butter in the center of each porcelain circle. then on the right side, a hastily wrapped knife, fork, spoon, in order from bottom to top and wrapped with a sticky paper tab. then bring in the fresh bread which was heaven in carb form. then the barbeque sauce in bottles, stained with the familiar deep mahogany color. the mouths of the bottles sometimes clogged with the sweet sticky substance. but it was all familiar.
or a bright summer afternoon. the doors are sometimes hard to open. it has something to do with the extremely cold atmosphere inside opposed with the hot sun rays outside. something to do with air pressure, i was never good at physics. but the fresh scent of orange juice, freshly squeezed from the brightly colored juicer hits you in the face. and it's so refreshing. a sixteen orange mango passion, please. it's perfect to quench your thirst on that hot summer day.

these smells will never leave me.