What do you smell like?

We live in a three story house. There is a doctors' office on the second floor and we live on the third floor. So to get to our apartment, we have to walk through the doctors' office. Usually, it's no big deal.
I went for a walk this morning and when I came back, all the nurses were scrambling to open windows and get the place "aired out". I wasn't exactly sure why since Germans have this kind of phobia about breezes, especially in the winter and especially, I would think, in a place where people come when they're sick anyway. Well, as I came to the waiting room by the door to our apartment, I smelled why. An unassuming, nicely dressed older woman sat waiting to see one of the doctors. I'm not sure how one gets to the point of smelling like this, but the stench was one of a long-ignored armpit. I expected the smell to fade as I traversed the stairs, but it did not. Brett sat in the living room also wondering how dirty the dirty clothes were that I was in the process of washing, unaware of the unaware carrier of the scent. While getting rid of my own comparitively mild odor, I realized how this situation can be applied to how we personally come across to the people that we know, meet or walk past. Do people want to get to know me better? Or do I leave a trail of sadness, joy, anger, mystery or indifference? Or do people turn around and wonder how they might know that stranger who just said hi?
Then I thought about how I hung up on someone yesterday who told me it'd be a week before they could mount the new tire to replace the spare. I'm sure that didn't go unnoticed. (I called him back to apologize, after this realization, and his colleague knew who I was) So, the question stands. What do you smell like?