Working with all these salon chemicals has shot my sense of smell. While my nose isn’t totally useless, I think my sense of smell is definitely at least handicapped. And being that taste and smell are so closely related, this handicap probably explains my ability to appreciate the finer delicacies in life, such as liver, anchovies, onions, etc.
Anyhow… Have you ever shopped at Abercrombie & Fitch? I needed a plaid shirt for Halloween, so I ducked in there assuming that’d be up their alley.
Upon entering, a plaid-clad employee acknowledged me. I think he was greeting me, but the music was too loud to be sure. Regardless, I nodded and smiled.
But listen, this isn’t about the music. I don’t mind shouting over noise. I can shout over my blowdryer all day long. THIS is about the perfume. Holy Moses…! If I was blind and led into this store, you would not be able to convince me that I was not in perfume hell. I’m not sure if they baptize their inventory through sprinkling or dunking, but either way… wow! I actually think I could taste the fragrance in my mouth. The place is just dripping with it. I could hear the perfume sloshing under my feet as I waded into the dressing room. Okay, if my handicap olfactory senses are not only picking up on the scent, but literally getting high off of it, then how on earth are the rest of you regular smellers coming out of there unscathed? Sweet lands alive…! It’s like… I was physically choking on the perfume to the point that the heimlich maneuver might have actually helped!
Pardon the excess.
I found this plaid shirt that was on sale, and then on sale some more. Even still, I might not have normally spent that much money on an average plaid shirt; but by that time the fumes had gone to my head. (I think that’s their strategy.)
Would you believe that before I was rung out, the guy looks at me, gestures to a bottle of perfume and says, “Have you had a chance to try our new fragrance…?”
I almost lost it. Almost. I was polite. And I saved my true reaction for Square Piece.
Dear Abercrombie and Fitch guy who rang me out,
Did I have a chance to try your new fragrance? Seriously? If you’re asking if both you and I were breathing the same air, then yes. Yes, I believe I did. After spending a few minutes in A&F, I think for the next week I’ll not only have tried your new fragrance, but I’ll be spitting it, sweating it and crying it out of my system.
You know how there’s always someone writing into a Dear Heloise column about an overly-perfumed coworker that lives in the next cubicle…?
Open a window.