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TUESDAY, 1 AUGUST, 2000, PHILADELPHIA |
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Below is a letter I wrote to a number of friends and family today, and some of the pertinent (or im-) responses. Dear Miss Manners, How can I maintain decorum and at the same time tell someone with whom I am obliged to speak for some time that the perfume they have marinated in that morning is causing me an allergic reaction? Can I mention that while I'm pleased to be able to answer any computer queries they might have, to just ignore my sudden spurts of vomit — that they will pass when this person has left? Or is there a more pleasant way of imparting this information. I tried the subtle, polite tactics of having my eyes water and my face go purple and my body slump over with abdonimal cramps, but the unwitting offender did not put the pieces together and only came closer to ask what was wrong. Which was not the point of my involuntary exercise. Your sagacity is gospel, le Marquis Déjà Dû P.S. I’m attaching a picture of my toilet hound because it’s orange and cute.  From Dierdre: Humm, that’s a toughie. Do you know the name of the marinade? Perhaps you could say something like: You: “Say, is that Old Spice you’re wearing?” (For added sarcasm you could add “It’s so subtle it’s hard to tell.”) Stinky: “Why yes, it is Old Spice. Do you like it?” You: “Well, I used to until I found that I was allergic, now it makes me woozy and nauseous. For your own safety you may want to take 3 steps backward.” or You: “Say, is that Old Spice you’re wearing?” Stinky: “No, it’s Obsession, why do you ask?” You: “Oh, I’ll have to add that one to the list of fragrances that I’m allergic to. Kinda makes me feel sick.” From Czar Laszlo Dear Mr. Marquis: What a delicate situation indeed. Aside from the obvious lighting of candles and launching mystical attacks upon the malodorous offender, which I still advise you do wholeheartedely, there are very few ways to handle such a spontaneously vomitous relationship where interpersonal communications are leaving something to be desired. My best suggestion to you is to approach this offending party on a particularly aromatic day and ram your tongue down their throat. A few minutes of passionate embrace with this repulsive creature is sure to send you straight to the emergency room! This will allow you not only to passively attack their ego by making them think it was the IDEA of jumping their bones that sent you into literal convulsion, while at the same time you’ll be safely tucked away with pretty nurses who must bathe you because your skin has turned to hardened polymer. Take this opportunity, also, to have the doctors write a prescription for avoiding that particular toxic allergen and present it to your employer, the offending party, and, of course, myself. Best of wishes with your new love affair, and don’t forget the turnback powder over charcoal! Czar Laszlo, the Dispossessed. From Lees™ Gentle Reader — We are a very “smell-centric” culture. When Miss Manners was just embarking on her graduate school career, she was handed a loosely-bound stack of paper called the “New Student Handbook,” which ordinarily Miss Manners would have promptly recycled; due to a long subway ride home one afternoon with no other reading material readily available, she found herself leafing through that which her “activities fee” assuredly made possible. Towards the back of said document, there was a section addressed to “foreign” students, offering advice on currency and public transportation and the location of laundromats in which one might clean saris and turbans and other such “exotic” items of apparel. Of particular interest to Miss Manners were the paragraphs devoted to hygiene. To paraphrase, Americans are very occupied with smelling good. Some Americans bathe as many as two times a day, and use scented deodorants and body splashes to boot. Such ablutions are absolutely necessary if one sweats like a boxer trying to read. But one should always be subtle about scent-layering. The idea is to smell good when in close proximity with a mate, lover, or carpenter in the scene shop. Some, unfortunately, are incapable of judging subtlety in its many and variant forms. Such people are likely to find the performer Adam Sandler to be the Wit of the Century, have bumper stickers which read “Mean People Suck,” and tend to marinate in designer imposter fragrances. Unfortunately, one must never appear rude, despite one’s obvious superiority to such vermin, which is why Miss Manners always favors the cowardly, anonymous approach. To wit: http://www.gentlehints.com/cologne.htm From Trik 2303 My only suggestion is to trick her. If said offender is in close proximity perhaps when someone else is walking away, perform a dramatic choking attack and confide in the offender that you can’t stand it when that other person comes around you in the morning because their perfume smells so bad and it makes you choke. In fact the smell is threatening your entire well being because, confidentially, you and your whole family come from a long line of allergic perfume reactionaries who, if not put into a premature grave due to the serious effect of the thick floral smog on your delicate lungs, have been recorded to start revolutions and mutinies that have since changed the course of world history for the worse. Confide as well with an all-knowing nod that as everyone knows, women who wear strong perfume in the morning are trying to cover the scent of crotch rot. See how that works and let me know. From Jeannie True story. —J From: Jeannie Hi Amos. I was hoping you could help me out. I am allergic to cologne and perfume. I’m sure other people don’t notice, but I have a very sensitive nose. When I breathe it in, it gives me an incredible headache. I’m sorry for asking and the inconvenience, but would you mind using a little less? I would really appreciate it. Jeannie From: Amos Hi Jeannie, Sorry if I had put too much cologne on and I will put less next time. Have a nice day… From Chère Maman Try to remember that the offending person cannot smell his or herself. And really the only way not to make an enemy of said person is just to try to avoid them. They think they smell wonderful and unless it is a close relative, I certainly wouldn't mention it. Love, Mom P.S. Love the toilet hound. From Dad > What are the Q-tips used for? Cleaning the tissue pooch of course. > P.S. Where is the nearest toilet hound store? Boston. From Mz. Patricia …let me compliment you on your elegant taste in toilet hounds. To have chosen something so delicate which brings no attention to the unmentionable item beneath is a credit to your upbringing. How well I can see Toilet Hound attracting the attention of the landed gentry, and being purchased in large quantities by international Royalty. It will fit rather well with the ancient, irreplaceable claw-foot bathtubs and the gold fittings. I humbly suggest that you buy stock immediately. Thanks for the INVESTOR TIP, Patz. I know my readers are grateful as well — if not gratuitous. 
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