I HATE! Patchouli

There is no scent that I abhor more than the smell of patchouli. Not the odor of rotting garbage. Not the stench emitted by the NYC sewage system. Not even the repugnant aroma of a partially-mummified dead body (not that I would know first-hand what that might smell like). You know, I can't really pinpoint why it is exactly that I hate the smell of patchouli so much. I can say, with some certainty, that I know precisely when I decided that I simply could not tolerate the scent. I had a very close friend in my childhood with whom I spent a lot time - this included accompanying her on family vacations, many of which were spent at her grandmother's beach house. The grandmother in question always smelled strongly of patchouli, as did her house, her car, and pretty much anything that came within 5 feet of her at any point. It was then that I realized that patchouli and I could never have a lasting relationship.

It was later in life that I discovered that patchouli was often a favorite scent among the hippie crowd. And anyone who knows me, knows that hippies generally aren't my favorite group of people - it might be the unmaintained and dirty hair, it might be the lack of personal hygiene, it might be the fucking tie-dye, it might be the crusty Birkenstocks... who knows really? And come to think of it, the childhood friend's grandmother was a bit of a hippie - she wore her completely gray hair long and wavy and her wardrobe consisted mostly of multi-colored, floor-length skirts. An ex-boyfriend once told me that his sister, when going through her hippie phase (at Oberlin), wore patchouli, but ditched the fragrance (if you can even call it that) once she left her days of bare feet and peace signs behind her. My point here is that, in my mind, there is a direct correlation between the hippie set and patchouli, only furthering patchouli's bad reputation and cementing it's scent as putrid and vomit-inducing. Do you need any more evidence?

Don't think for a second that I'm exaggerating here. (I would NEVER do that!) How can I explain just how deeply my hatred for patchouli runs? Here's a good story: I once interned at a magazine where I always got free stuff. I went home every day with tons of make-up and bath and beauty products that were sent to the magazine by PR reps hoping to score an editorial mention. I hoarded this stuff and always managed to get the best and most swag. One day I went home with a bunch of bath products - lotions, body washes, soaps. Eager to try everything out, I used the body wash in the shower the next morning, right before I got on the train to go to Philadelphia. God knows how I managed to miss the fact that the whole lot was patchouli-scented. Obviously, I idiotically neglected to read the labels. What's worse, I didn't pick up on the scent while I was generously lathering up my body in the shower that morning. After a mad-dash to the train, I got comfy in my seat and prepared for the ride. It was then that the scent of patchouli engulfed me. I literally started to choke and cough - the odor was suffocating. I was scratching everywhere and leaving big red splotches all over my chest and arms. After the most uncomfortable of train rides, I had to race home and shower and even then, I was convinced I still hadn't completely shaken the scent. Talk about traumatizing experiences.

Anyway, point is patchouli smells fucking disgusting. I can't stand the smell - it literally causes an allergic reaction. Hippies wear it because the smell is overwhelmingly strong and can be used to disguise body odor and filth that has gone unchecked for weeks. Enough said.

I HATE! Smelling Like the Restaurant You Were Just In

Does it do any good to complain about something you can't change? No, probably not. But obviously, that is not the point of this blog. Do I think that I can influence people out of their ignorance, oblivion, self-absorption, or stupidity? No, course not. Do I think that through this blog I am able to magically make the changes I wish to see in the world. Clearly, I do not believe that I can. My point here is this: some of these postings are simply created as a venting mechanism and I know there is nothing I can do to change the unfortunate ways of the world.

That being said, I would, today, like to address a very important issue. A few weeks ago, I went to have Mexican food with my friend Robby. I had a burrito, a glass of red sangria, and more tortilla chips than is healthy to consume in one sitting. The restaurant was nothing special - not high-end nor low-rent. It was festively decorated and more importantly, the food was very yummy. Overall, I was quite satisfied with the dining experience... that was until I got outside.

Robby and I decided that a bottle of wine might be a nice way to finish our evening and as we ventured into the wine shop across the street, I began to notice the aroma of Mexican food was following me. At first, I just thought we could still smell the fumes from the restaurant from across the street, but as we entered the shop, it became strikingly apparent that I was what smelled like Mexican food. In fact, I smelled like I had just been stuffed with re-fried beans, cheese, gauc, steak, rice, and sour cream and then thrown into the deep fryer. Ick! Ugh! Gross!

I can absolutely not stand smelling like the food I have just consumed and frankly, I take it as a bad sign when you carry the smell of the restaurant you've just eaten in to every other place you go afterwards. Furthermore, this phenomenon causes me to avoid such establishments all together. If you can't keep the smell of cooking food in the kitchen, there is something seriously wrong. Don't get the wrong idea here, I love it when food comes out of the kitchen piping hot and smelling amazing, but that scent should not seep into your clothes and hair and follow you home like a stray puppy. To me, that is a tragic sign of bad food preparation - trans fats, lard, deep-frying, unidentifiable meat products - these words come to mind.

I really feel like this has to be some sort of health code violation - isn't there a regulatory policy regarding poisoning your patrons with the crippling scent of the food served? If not, there certainly should be. It could be very hazardous to your health - suppose you leave a restaurant smelling intensely of the grilled lamb chops you just enjoyed and on the way home the scent attracts a pack of wild dogs who then proceed to attack and maul you because they think you're packing lamb chops? This is a very plausible scenario.

But the thing is, you know the moment when you walk into a restaurant whether you're going to be taking a souvenir home with you after your meal - and I don't mean a doggie bag. For example, this past weekend, I was with my mother in the classiest city in the world, AC. And for lunch, after deciding that we both were craving hamburgers, we ventured into Johnny Rockets. I know, I know - Johnny Rockets isn't a 4-star establishment, but the food is yummy - especially when you're jonesing for a greasy loaded-up cheeseburger and fries. it's the kind of place that really hits the spot. Anyway, the moment I walked into the place, I knew I (and my brand-new wool coat) was going to carry the scent of the griddle with me for the rest of the day. The place reeked of grease. The air was saturated with the scent. You know when people use the phrase 'cut the tension with a knife'? Well, I think I could have cut the greasy air with a knife. It was horribly disgusting. I could feel the greasy and pungent odor permeating my pores, my hair, and my clothing. I almost couldn't finish my barbecue sauce-slathered, onion ring and bacon-topped cheeseburger... almost. No need to fret - I did manage to get it down.

And the moment I did, I got out of there as fast as I could... leaving a trail of the scent of cheeseburger down the boardwalk behind me.