The Scent of the Scene

I don’t think I’ve bought a bottle of air-freshener in at least five years. With my parents unexpectedly in town, I felt the need to conceal cigar smoke and the general bachelorness of the joint. So I bought a bottle of “Febreze: Rocky Springs and Cool.” My house now smells like a nightclub. This stuff must come standard-issue with a liquor license. It’s the exact smell of a thousand dance clubs. So much so I had to fight the urge to put up track lighting and spin Paul Oakenfold.

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