We have an old phone booth on display at the museum where I work, and inside it smells...well...like Telegraph. Stale. Sweaty. And more than a bit like old pot. So every once in awhile, when no one's around, I open up the door, close my eyes, inhale deeply, and think of home.
*Side note, I'm not the only one who thinks this, apparently. When I was getting the official tour around the museum, the curator mentioned that some people thought the booth smelled like pot, but she wasn't sure. I am, and it does.