Perfume

I don't like perfume. To this end, I don't wear perfume. I don't even wear perfumed deodorant or use scented soap.

Actually, this isn't true. There are a very few perfumes that I do like the smell of.

New West, by Aramis, which is now discontinued, and 4711 Cologne.

Something in an Alan Bennett play had reminded me about 4711 and [this is about four years ago] David was going to New York. "Is there anything you want me to bring you back?" he asked.

"Get me a bottle of 4711", I said.

Now, prior to this, I'd only ever seen 4711 in the smallest of bottles. I could recall the scent of it, but, most of all, I could remember the label on the bottle. Turquoise and gold, very intricate, but the smallest of bottles. This giving it an air of exclusivity.

Anyway, David went off to New York and returned with a suitcase filled with crap.

Amongst the crap was the biggest bottle of 4711. Not only big but one whole litre in size. Something akin to the size of bottle that you tend to see in the window of a chemist!

To this end, I did use some of the scent but the rest of it "went off".

I should have kept the bottle but, stupidly, threw it away.

Ah, well. Never mind.

All of the above was brought about by an incident on Friday night when David came up to me in the pub. Before he had a chance to speak, I told him to fuck off as the smell of his perfume was 1. making me sick, 2. the smell of his perfume was affecting the taste of my beer.

Needless to say, David wasn't happy. In the whole pantheon of little Disney characters, I'm not sure which one he was, but Happy wasn't one of them!