Hello.
I would like to open a serious discussion about Febreeze™. I hate it. I fear it. I am 98% sure it came from the depths of hell to haunt innocent households with undying scents of “Aloha Breeze” and “Whispering Woods.”
Let me give you some context for this solemn note about scented aerosol: On Monday, November 1, after having a glorious Halloweekend and submitting my College Applications, I smelled Febreeze™ for the first time, and I have been rethinking everything since that fateful moment.
It all started at Whole Foods – approximately 2:08 PM. I had been tasked by my mom to buy dishwasher fluid. So, there I was, in the cleaning aisle, looking for dishwasher fluid.
I was content, calm, tranquil, most of all, satisfied with my place in life.
As I walked with my cart down the aisle, something caught my eye. I don’t know whether it was the cool fall colors or an evil spirit drawing me in, but I spotted a section of Febreeze™, but this wasn’t just any Febreeze™. No, I’m not talking about basic room freshener or any “Fresh Linen” type of scent. This section of Febreeze™ was fall-themed. Orange bottles labeled with sparkles and size 42 Arial font “Freshly Harvested Pumpkin,” cream-colored bottles labeled “Freshly Baked Vanilla,” and random purple bottles labeled “Wood.”
Intrigued by the prospect of fall-themed room perfume, I decided to take a quick waft of one of the most inviting bottles: “Freshly Spiced Apple.” It was red, comforting; it almost had a glow about it. Something was drawing me in. So, I took a sniff. I was an innocent, helpless victim.
That moment changed my life forever.
I was caught off guard. Nothing could have prepared me for the stench that proceeded to plummet into my soul. I expected to smell something, not have my insides burned by aerosol. No one warned me the concentration of scent in these compressed bottles of hatred. What I smelled has been imprinted in my mind for forever. It was abhorrent, violent, and vicious. What attacked my nose was not apples but demonic particles of volcanic ash that latched on to every thread of my clothing.
What’s more? I have allergies. Serious ones. The type where my face blows up like a red balloon twice a year in March thanks to bees doing their pollinating stuff. Not only did the stench obliterate my ability to taste, see or think straight, but I started sneezing, and I couldn’t stop. I grabbed the unscented, dye-free dishwasher fluid as fast as I could, all while doubled over shaking from sneezes. That fresh apple was restless and persistent. I drove home covered in a demonic apple field, still sneezing.
What now? It’s been two days since my incident. I’m still sneezing. My room and bed stink of spicy apples. I don’t know what to do.
Ultimately, I fear those who willingly use Febreeze™ in their homes, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Febreeze™ customers are being censored. I cannot have been the only victim this fall. I stand with you Febreeze™ victims, you and I are one. Stand tall. We battle at dawn.
Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
My Eyes Are Burning