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29 january 2001 Submit to lid. Earn fame. Lots of fame! Fortune, well... |
shoooo-weee! Not too many things get my dander up at work, and for this I consider myself lucky. For the most part, I work with a bunch of friendly, laid-back folks who work smart. It's a very casual environment, as well, which means we're that much more comfortable doing our respective jobs. And yet, don't you know I'd have a quibble. It's not even a work-related issue, but darn if it's aggravating. And something tells me many of you have experienced this as well. The thing is, it ranks firmly up there in the "irritation" category, so saying anything doesn't do anything but make you look like a ninny. You stoically endure, knowing that everyone else feels the same way about said irritant. Someone's been a-dousing herself with perfume in the ladies' restroom. With the eight-dollar-a-pint stuff. Twice a day. Now, having a decent lung capacity, I can hold my breath for a pretty long time before serious brain damage ensues. But after two or three cups of morning coffee and some water, Kimmy's gotta tinkle. Badly. And wash my hands. And dry them. And, eventually, inhale Eau de Eeeeeeew. What is she doing all day that requires such a diligent stink patrol? The thing is, I don't even know who's doing it. No one does, and we've even checked to make sure it's not the air freshener (which, incidentally, would smell way nicer than what the Guerilla Spritzer currently uses.) Do I have any SWAT team readers? Contact me! I think I've discovered a more economical way for you to evacuate buildings. Which brings me to a related concern, and that is, why are some of you applying perfume before you go home? Especially when you must share an elevator? Does it matter to you that we're knocking out ceiling tiles just to get fresh shaft air? Do you notice the radius of disgusted faces surrounding you? The wheezing? As my Mom would say, "were you raised in a (fragrant) BARN?" Which is not to say that I don't like perfume. In fact, I love it, and wear it regularly. A few dabs on the pulse points, and I'm good to go. Sometimes people even look at me all friendly and say, "you sure do smell nice, Kim." Aw, shucks. Ye aromatic ones, lemme offer you a bit of advice. I'm not saying that you have to spend a wad on your fragrance of choice. What I am saying, however, is that there's usually a reason yours might be on the clearance rack with the Chia Pets. It's not wine, it's cologne. Doesn't age well. Heck, do yourself a big favor and if you're going to buy alcohol, BUY ALCOHOL! It's fifty cents in the band-aid aisle, and at least then people will think you got a massage, or are injured, or are very hygienic. There's cheap. There's tacky. Do me a favor, and just be cheap. |