"I don't smell anything," you say, shrugging to suggest it would be a non-issue even if you did. You can see it won't be that easy, since all three girls are clearly deciding just what your casual dismissal means. You realize that one guy hanging out with three girls can't escape this brand of scrutiny for very long, but you suddenly have an idea how to play it off.
"You're, like, right there," Suzie teases you, her legs stretched out in front of her. "You're being gassed to death, Mr. Chivalry, admit it!" She twists precariously on the beanbag to nudge you with her foot, smirking. She often goes in for nylons like Hayley, but you've noticed she likes working her collection of Chucks, wearing a different pair daily; red, today. Being nudged like that was pleasantly unexpected, but it's a challenge to hold yourself together. You want Hayley and Suzie to get their shoes off as well, and you'd be more than happy to help.
You decide to take a gamble.
"No, I really don't smell anything," you tell the girls, sitting up a little straighter to suggest you've got something important to say. "Congenital anosmia. I can't smell anything at all. So if Liz's feet are really whiff right now, I have no way of knowing. I'll have to take your word for it."
It's a calculated risk. The girls might be uncomfortable with your 'condition,' but then they might also be fascinated. In which case, you hope you can turn it to your advantage.
"Wow, you can't smell anything, really?" Hayley asks, leaning forward. Liz and Suzie look just as curious, so you attempt to masterfully downplay their growing curiosity with another shrug.
"I don't think it's that big of a deal," you say. "It's more like being colorblind, but for smells. I've been this way all my life, so it seems normal to me."
"Yeah, but wouldn't that mess up your sense of taste, too?!" Suzie asks, eyes wide. "Pizza must taste like cardboard. Everything must taste like cardboard! I couldn't handle that."
The girls prattle in excited horror over what their favorite foods would be like, robbed of flavor. You get in a comment about how the basic taste receptors in your tongue aren't affected. Meanwhile, you're taking as many subtle sniffs as you can manage, leaning in the direction of Liz's cooling socked feet as discreetly as possible. Her feet smell even better now that you have everyone distracted, but you're still hoping for the big payoff.
"Is that why you've had stuff go off in the lab before?" Hayley asks, seizing on the idea. "Because you couldn't smell what you were mixing together? You could have blown yourself up! What if there's a gas leak in your house and you're all alone?"
"I think we've got the cure right here," Suzie says, smiling, and you know she's coming to your rescue. "Why don't you . . . "
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