Only one man didn’t wince when I said the word inflorescence. In fact, this man wanted to know more. He wanted to see a corpse flower for himself. He didn’t seem fazed when I reminded him of the odor. I couldn’t believe my luck when, a few months later, over what had become our near-weekly dinner date, this handsome, green-eyed man put his fork down and said he wanted to take a road trip with me the next time a corpse flower bloomed. That it didn’t matter where it was. I knew he wasn’t joking when he said he’d go anywhere with me, and that he meant it. I’d met my match.
