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Sometimes I think I smell onions. There is almost never an onion in sight when I think I smell them. My first reaction upon encountering this familiar scent is “Yum, onions!” because I am quite fond of that particular root vegetable. My second reaction, which is always very quick in following the first, is “I wonder if that is someone’s body odor.” Because sometimes B.O. is oniony in nature. I’m always confused when I think I’m smelling onions because I can never be sure if I ought to be salivating or grimacing. The smell of onions could be either good or bad, and I will be forever tormented by the mystery.

Life is filled with things like the puzzling, evanescent onion aroma that perplexes me so. These are things toward which I am very ambivalent. Does this onion smell mean there are tasty sandwiches nearby, or am I standing close to someone whose deodorant isn’t working? It’s anybody’s guess.

But this ambiguity exists in things more serious than lingering remnants of sandwiches and body odor. In the case of one enigma in particular, my dichotomous feelings go much deeper than feeling either hungry or nauseated: I could feel either empowered and proud or just plain disappointed. This particular enigma concerns ladies and booze. And by “ladies and booze” I mean powerful, take-no-shit women and single malt scotch.

Scotch whisky has a considerable presence in movies and television. Tough, hard-edged guys sit hunched over a bar, lamenting the loss of money and/or women as they gruffly order it on the rocks—a double, and tell the bartender to keep it coming. Sharp-dressed lawyers sit in comfortable, yet minimalist chairs as they sip it neat from wide-mouthed glasses. Polished businessmen flirt with the cute cocktail waitress as they order it with soda in an attempt to make the dull chitchat of the company Christmas party more bearable. It’s become quite the cliché at this point. Any time the strong male protagonists decide they need a drink and reach into their desk drawer for the bottle they keep for such occasions, you can almost always count on it being scotch.

Scotch is power, refinement, and luxury. Scotch is warm, amber masculinity. And no strong alpha female should be without a well-aged bottle, just in case.

About a week ago I was watching an episode of Ugly Betty online. Wilhelmina, the co-editor-in-chief, was discussing shrewd financial strategies with a male colleague. After their conversation came to a close, this colleague made an observation about her. He remarked that she seemed like the kind of woman who would have a bottle of single-malt scotch. She pulled out her unopened bottle from the cabinet, along with two glasses, and poured a couple of drinks.

Girl power, right? She can rival men in both business and social matters. She can take that symbol of strength and masculinity and make it her own. She can pry the “BOYS ONLY” sign from the side of the clubhouse, stride in on stilettoed heels, and make herself at home. This can be the sign that women are officially equals in the same profession as their male colleagues. I’ve seen this happen in a handful of other TV shows and movies, which could indicate the un-gendering of scotch’s symbolism. Maybe now scotch is just Power, period.

Hey, wait a second… Do you smell onions?

On the Sandwich Side, strong women sipping fine scotch may indicate the overcoming of gender discrimination in the workplace. Women are forces to be reckoned with. Women can do whatever the men can do, and perhaps even better (especially when it comes to wearing suits, because that can be sexy as hell. But I digress). And by writing our female leads as being refined drinkers of astronomically expensive whisky, the characters (and by extension, women in general) are given more respect and admiration.

But here’s the Body Odor Side: Perhaps the co-opting of a traditionally male pastime is not the beacon of feminist achievement that it first appeared to be. What if it’s more of a commentary on women conforming to predominately male standards pertaining to power and its display? Are women drinking scotch because they discovered what all the fuss was about, or are they drinking it because that is what successful men are shown doing? And if it is the latter reason, does this mean that these women are merely mimicking this behavior so they can fit in with the other guys? If the Body Odor Side is the true side, then women aren’t being portrayed as powerful and independent ass-kickers at all; they’re being made to look like conforming man-wannabes who need to do what the boys do.

When I think I smell onions, I always look for clues. Am I OK with potentially craving a sandwich if what I’m really smelling is someone’s rank bodily aroma? Would I be bothered if I was put off my hunger because I assumed it wasn’t really onions I got a whiff of? I’m always so torn.

And much like when I think I smell onions, I must accept that I might never know the truth. Whether sandwich or body odor, female empowerment or copy-catting the boys, the confusion will not be overcome any time soon.

But I kind of like it that way, to be honest. It keeps me on my toes. It keeps me interested.

And sometimes it makes me hungry.