There are seven Christmas cards hanging from my window at the office. There is a snowman snow globe sitting on my desk right in front of me. There is enough Christmas music on my computer to play continuously for over seven hours and not repeat at all. The office Christmas decorations should be here any day.
All this, and I thought we still needed a little something…perhaps a Christmas smell. I spent ten minutes in Walmart on the air freshener aisle looking for a nice evergreen or spiced apple scent to brighten up my bubble. But I found something better (good thing cause there was nothing else but clean linen and floral)…pumpkin pie. For just $5.97 I could make my bubble smell like my mother’s oven on Thanksgiving morning (post turkey of course).
I took the Glade Plug-in to the office and found a nice, out of the way outlet in the lobby, yet close to the receptionist window, to place my new found holiday scent. I put it on the lowest possible setting. And people loved it. Clients asked me what it was so they could get it. All the staff said it smelled wonderful.
Then along came socially awkward attorney. Ebeneezer Scrooge. The Grinch. “Who authorized this smell?” What? That’s the most ridiculous question I’ve ever heard. From then on, every time he walked through the lobby he would make comments under his breath. Grr. It’d be different if he had to smell it all day long and it honestly bothered him. No. His office is as far away from the lobby as you can get and still be in the building. No, his complaint is that it’s something out of the ordinary. It has nothing to do with the fact that it smells good or bad, but that it hasn’t always been there.
This makes me want to beat him with his own stupid hat.
Methinks I’ll be leaving him a lengthy voicemail full of Christmas music…”You’re a rotter, Mr. Grinch. You’re the king of sinful sots. Your heart’s a dead tomato splot with moldy purple spots, Mr. Grinch. Your soul is an apalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, mangled up in tangled up knots.”