Confessions of a Laundry Sniffer

I've just become the honorary recipient of a Very Strange Look. It was sort of a mix between a "just smile and nod at the crazy person" and a "her simpleness amuses me, however, it would be mean to outright laugh so I shall try and refrain".

You see, upon waking up this morning to find that the population of clean socks in my dresser drawer had all but become extinct, I came to the conclusion that today would probably be a good day to do laundry, lest I should resort to wearing dirty smelly stinky socks. Which would lead to dirty smelly stinky feet. Which society deems as undesirable.
And to avoid being cast out like a leper on charges of dirtysmellystinkyfeet, it was time to take action!
However, upon my arrival at the Ottonabee College laundry facilities at approximately 3:00 in the afternoon, I inferred by the lack of available washing machines that I was not the only student experiencing the sock-shortage phenomenon. My situation improved after just a short interval in which I committed a Grand Theft Fabric Softener Sheet from an unsecured box of Downy. (What? You don't just leave those babies laying around!) A studious young lad came and made the washer-dryer transition, and I was all set! ...For now.

38 minutes later. I arrive back at the laundry facility hoping to make the washer-dryer transition myself, only to find that the sock-shortage phenomenon showed no signs of subsiding. Eight little dryers were tumbling merrily, full of other people's clothes. Except for one, on which some guy was happily sorting, pairing, folding, admiring, caressing his nicely crisp, clean, dry clothes. As mine were becoming wrinkled in the washer.
Patiently I waited, as he took his time sorting, pairing, folding, admiring, and caressing. Growing restless, I noticed that several jugs of Tide had been left behind by their owners as they waited for their clothes to dry, and I noticed that each of the aforementioned jugs of Tide all had different colour-coded lids. I was curious. And so, I did the only thing that a curious person could do in this situation - I took the lids off of all the Tide jugs, smelling each one in turn. I had just discovered an insanely floral one that I didn't particularily enjoy, and turned around to make a face at my friend Sarah to get the point across, when I noticed that the laundry folder had ceased to fold and was now watching me.
"Um. You can use some if you want," he said. Generous fellow.
"Oh. No thanks, I'm just waiting for a dryer," I replied sweetly, and matter-of-factly "and, I just decided I'd smell the laundry detergent while I passed the time."
It was then that I was bestowed with a Very Strange Look.

Going over the situation, I can't say I really blame the guy. Because I must of seemed a little bit silly.