They just installed an automatic perfume dispenser in the women's bathroom here at my job. I appreciate the dispenser. I really do. Every so often, this dispenser emits a cloud of ambiguous sweet scent... overripe watermelon on a forest floor, maybe, and while I do not care for the scent myself, I appreciate the intention behind it.
I do not, however, appreciate the terrifying sounds this gadget makes.
I was in a stall when I first heard the click. To my ears, this sounded a good deal like someone cocking a gun. Where I work, hearing such a sound is not entirely outside the realm of possibility. So, with racing heart and sagging tights, I leapt on to the toilet seat, and stood there until I was quite sure the danger had passed.
Today, scrubbing my hands at the sink, I told a co-worker about my first encounter with the perfume dispenser. "You should have heard the perfume dispenser at my old job," she replied.
"What did it sound like?"
"A large man sighing."
Horrifying. Perfume-dispenser-makers of America, I ask you: What are you thinking? What on earth?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment