My freshmen year in college the two guys who lived in the same suite as me smoked pot. A lot. On good days. On bad days. With friends. Alone. Oh yeah, these guys were potheads. Thing is, and I’m not proud of this, I had no clue for almost the entire year. I just thought they were abusers of pine-sol.
See, whenever they smoked pot, they’d dump about a pint of pine-sol in their room. And in the suite. On good days. On bad days. With friends. Alone. Oh yeah, these guys were serious pine-sol heads.
I couldn’t make sense of it. These were some of the dirtiest guys I’d ever been around. But by god, they loved for their room to smell lemony-fresh. By the time May rolled around I abhorred that fake lemon scent.
My nose recently reminded me of this memory while I was at work. Not the smell of pine-sol but of a half a can of air freshener that had been liberally sprayed throughout the office.
My Korean co-workers are nice folks. They know that their foreign fish dishes are not the most pleasing to Caucasian noses. So after marathon microwave sessions, they whip out the air freshener.
I’ve debated on whether to speak up. “I’d much rather smell rotten fish than drown my nasal cavities in lavender mountain breezes.” I don’t think they’d understand. And by the time I’d finished telling them about the pine-sol heads they’d probably regret hiring this jokkah.