Fresh Baked

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Why I Hate Febreze

When I finished college, two of my friends and I took off to live in Ireland. (No words will ever, ever, EVER adequately express how wonderful it was to live and work in the country my parents were born and raised. At least not the words that aren't accompanying pictures and copious amounts of Guinness.) Living in Ireland left a lasting impression on me, as you could imagine it would. For a long time afterward, I referred to things as I had learned them there, complete with brogue-- elevators were lifts, cigarettes were fags, and when you asked for a pint, you got Guinness. Another thing that has stayed with me since then is a great aversion to Febreze.

On our third day there, I went looking for work. There I was, in a different country, looking for a job, hoping that somebody, anybody, would hire me even though I was a Mick in Yank's clothing... and the only job I could get after 3 MONTHS of searching was catering a seafood and champagne bar at the Galway Races. For a week, I woke at an unreasonable hour, walked into the city center station, took the bus to the track, handed out plates of shrimp, muscles, salmon, and all their other underwater friends to owners and trainers of the horses. Then, after lunching on a well balanced meal of sausage and brown bread, I plopped out more fish, returned to the bus, walked back to the apartment, and fell my ass asleep.

The glitch in this system is this: hocking seafood all day makes you STANKY. The laundromats had closed by the time I got off the bus, wouldn't be open before I left in the morning, and since the washer/dryer in our apartment was beyond mortal comprehension I had very few choices. Fuckity-fuck fuck. I did the best thing I could think of: I febrezed the shit out of that shirt. I sprayed it to death and then hung it out on the balcony overnight, every night for a week. Imagine that-- 6 days worth of salmon, spilt champagne and stink, piling up on top of one another, clamoring to be the first to assault my nose... to say the least, it does NOT smell good. So, when I saw the commercial for Febreze Scent Stories-- it plays! Like a CD!! 5 different scents in 2.5 hours!, I felt a little sick to my stomach. I cannot imagine these horrors unleashed.