Making scents

 

I will readily agree that some of the library patrons here at the library I work at are miscreants. It goes with the territory. People are unwieldy.

 I am compelled by hard evidence to note that a few of my library co-workers are miscreants. It's disconcerting, but those tapeless cobs in the dispensers aren't left by no one.

But I steadfastly refuse to believe anyone reading clerkmanifesto is a miscreant. 

Which is why I feel comfortable telling you this story even if you might be a co-worker of mine.

It's about air fresheners in the employee bathrooms.

"Oh my god!" You cry. "I have been waiting my whole life for you to write about air fresheners in the employee bathrooms." 

I know, and thank you for your many messages.

They were very polite.

And persistent.

We have two employee bathrooms here at my library. There is no venting in these bathrooms, no fans. There are no windows. In my role as procurer of library supplies I slightly flexed into the separate world of janitorial supplies to get some air fresheners. After a few experiments I settled on a device that automatically sprays a scent every 10 or 15 minutes.

It's better than nothing.

I'm especially fond of the rare "Pine" scent I recently tracked down. I prefer it to the "Musty Poo" scent that occurs naturally. "Citrus" is not as good, but it works better than "Cave full of old pee". "Citrus" doesn't smell exactly like citrus, but it smells nothing like a cave full of old pee.

Once, for some reason I can't remember, I bought some cheap four level shelves for these bathrooms. The dispensers of scent were on the top shelf of these, and when I first put them in I found them regularly twisted apart. I thought maybe someone was not understanding them, and they were trying to make them work. So I put a very classy sign in front of them:

"Please do not fold, spindle, or touch this dispenser, and it will spray every 10 or 15 minutes."

This seemed to solve the problem for awhile.

But then I noticed every time I went into the left bathroom the dispenser was twisted apart. Weird. If someone had a problem with these they could bring it to my attention. But they didn't. They declared war.

Many times a day I would twist the dispenser back together. Many times a day the dispenser would be twisted apart. I wasn't winning. It wasn't fun. It was a stalemate.

Then I got an idea.

I put a used up dispenser on the prominent top shelf and left it twisted apart. Then, discretely, I put a functioning dispenser down on an obscure spot on the bottom shelf where one could hardly see it.

It's working.

Ha.

The ball's in your court miscreant!