Pardon my indelicacy, but I fear this subject must be broached. Something is rotten in Newmentia.
I know that the restroom is a place where people do things that might be considered by some to be...um...how you say...aromatic. Yes. That's what the room is for. But not 24/7. Somebody's got a problem. Or a lot of somebodies.
Since the day school started, and by that, I mean, started for teachers last Monday...the faculty women's restroom has had an odor every single time I walked in. Has our faculty been infested with the bagged lettuce bug? Is somebody really, really nervous about work this year? Or is it just that confounded Common Core that has their bowels in an uproar?
Oh, whoever it is tries to be considerate. Or tries to disguise her business in that place, lest the person(s) waiting in line against the wall to be next borrow that old Kentucky Fried Movie line and shout, "Christ! Did a cow sh*t in here?" Yes, she who dealt the smell always sprays Febreze. Which used to work like a charm. I brought that Febreze in last year. Perhaps it's losing its effectiveness. Or petering out. I believe that scent is Sweet Citrus and Zest. Only now it's not sweet. And it's lost its zest. That refresher is simply a shell of its former self. A green metal bottle husk, bereft of compressed aroma.
So I bought some more at The Devil's Playground last week. A vibrant orange can.
I thought I was bringing in Falling Leaves and Spice. But instead, I inadvertently grabbed Hawaiian Aloha. Not to be confused with New Jersey Aloha, heh, heh. See what I did there? I made fun of Febreze's scent-naming geniuses, because isn't it a bit redundant to call something a Hawaiian aloha? And what state could be the antithesis of Hawaii, except New Jersey. Sorry, you devils out east.
Imagine my surprise when I gave it a whirl after school, and thought, "Since when does fall smell like coconuts?" Actually, according to the mixture I got attempting to make the after-school faculty women's restroom bearable, Hawaiian Alohas smell like somebody crapped in a coconut shell on the beach.
So much for my good deed. A commercial family would never fall for that Febreze blindfold trick. They would not be sniffing golden meadows and cupcake parties. They would be hollering, "Christ! Did a cow sh*t in here?"