What's In A Rose

Two family friends had come from India to visit and I took them around the university campus. We put in a visit at the Rose Garden and the old couple (Uncle Tim and Aunt Sally) stopped to smell the roses. They got close-ish to one bush and took a deep sniff.

"These Canadian roses don't smell like Indian roses."

Another sniff.

"It's very strong, the smell."

Sniff, sniff.

"It's not bad, not bad at all. I quite like it, in fact. But it's different. In fact (this is Uncle Tim), I have smelt this type of rose before. When I was in England. Yes, yes, I remember it now. It's a special type of Western rose. You don't get this sort of rose in India. We should really introduce this there, let the locals know what they're missing. Am I right R (R being yours truly) !?!"

"Well, Uncle, actually, umm,.... it's uh, umm...."

"Oh you wouldn't know. You engineer types stay all day in the lab and stare at computers. This is not your field. No, trust me, this is a special kind of rose. I know my roses."

We took the far exit out of the garden past the inspected bush, and thus past a young man reading a book, sipping coffee...

... and smoking a joint the size of a Subway sandwich.

If Uncle Tim and Aunt Sally made the connection, they sure didn't let it show.