JG in WNY: I had purchased potpourri scented Furniture Polish one day and had dusted the house as part of my daily cleaning. When my husband got home that evening his face twisted up and he asked, “What is that smell?”
He was so offended by the odor that I promised not to use it again – and I didn’t.
About a month or so later, I ran out of my regular, lemon-scented polish and saw the potpourri scented can in the back of the cabinet. I thought about it……. My husband wouldn’t be home until evening……it was morning…… I was sure I could accomplish my tasks and air the room out so he’d never know.
So off I went, ridiculously trying to speed along, as if I would get caught if I didn’t hurry. The entire house was dusted in record time – and he was right – it did stink. Why hadn’t I noticed that distasteful after-smell before?
OK, now let me back up a bit. At some point I had also purchased a can of Raid – couldn’t tell you what kind of Raid it was, all I know is, it was in a purple can – just like the potpourri scented Furniture polish. Yep, this All-American housewife had dusted all her good furniture – in every room in the house – with insect repellant! The house stunk – but we didn’t see an insect around for months!
MAB in WS: I and my boss were travelling for our job. We have always had a great and very platonic and appropriate working relationship. Well, this time out, we were forced to take a hotel that was in a less-than-favorable area of the city. No problem, once I’m in my room, nobody bothers me.
So, there I sat, eating a to-go dinner and watching some television when the handle on my door jiggled. You know that silent feeling of fear that fills your space when it hits you? That was all over me as I listened intently to be sure I was right. Sure enough, the door handle jiggled again. My God, someone was outside my room, trying to get in!
I had my boss on the phone in seconds flat. “J.R. someone is trying get in my room!” I whispered in alarm. That’s all I said. Then the phone went dead.
“J.R.? J.R.?” The phone was definitely dead.
Before I even had the chance to panic, there was loud pounding on the door and I heard him calling to me. With an appreciative smile, I went to open the door. Fear immediately dissipated. J.R. was there and obviously feeling quite protective.
I went to the door, pulled it open and what greeted me? My 280 lb. boss – who had always been completely appropriate with me, was standing there in his button-down shirt and boxer shorts! He’d been so concerned at my call that he’d nearly ripped the door to his own room off the hinges in his immediate exit. I looked down, looked back up and we laughed hysterically.
Once you see someone in their underwear, the relationship is really never quite the same again. (By the way, no one was ever found to have been jiggling my door handle and all was well the rest of trip!)