Common Scents

I got the call while I was outside watering my bone-dry begonias. Naturally, I was honored, not to mention surprised. When a top perfumery asks to bottle your scent, it’s nothing to sneeze at.  Every celebrity on the planet has a signature fragrance, from the Olson Twins, Britney and Paris, to J. Lo, Gwyneth and Beyonce. It’s about time a major non-celeb such as myself got a crack at that multi-billion dollar market.  I’m still not sure how the folks at Odeurs Unlimited got wind of me, but clearly they smelled a winner from afar.  “I would like so much to spend zi day with you,” declared Madame Pheromone, Senior V.P. of Toiletry.  "You want to come here?” I gasped, imagining the hellish hours of housework ahead of me.  “Mais oui,” she answered Frenchly. “How else can I collect your essence?”

I pinched myself. Could this really be happening to moi? Giant dollar signs swirled dizzily before my eyes. Lost in reverie, I tripped over the hose, drenching myself in H2Eau.  As I toweled off, I offered Madame P. directions from LAX. I assumed she was jetting in from Paris for our meet-and-greet.  "Non,” she corrected me, “Simi Valley.”

I told her which off-ramp to take and spent the next twelve hours scrubbing, sweeping and dusting. At noon the next day, I opened the door to find a petite, tres chic woman carting a leopardskin satchel and matching notepad. Immediately, she commenced sniffing and scribbling.  “Coffee grinds … dog hair … burnt bagel … fabric softener … dish soap… cucumber-aloe body lotion … with a hint of … how you say … teenage boy.”

Two seconds inside and she’d nailed my personal aroma with frightening accuracy. “Wow,” I said, bowing my head in awe. “You’re good.”  “C’est vrai,” quipped Madame Pheromone, immodestly. She didn’t reach her lofty status in the toilette zone by accident. Her nasal gifts are legendary in an industry that stinks of nastiness.

Why, just the other day, Britney Spears slapped a photographer upside the head with an atomizer of “Curious,” dousing him in a punishing blend of white floral, Louisiana Magnolia and the sensuality of vanilla-infused musk. All it took was one whiff of that tabloid stalker and a hungry mob of coyotes, deer and assorted wild beasts descended upon him.  FYI: This incident, including its shocking aftermath — the lens man was tragically consumed limb by limb — was captured for eternity on YouTube, and can be viewed in its entirety for your enjoyment.

After Madame P. assured me that no animals, including paparazzi lying in wait, would be harmed during the production of “My Generic Fragrance” (pretty catchy, huh?) we got to work conjuring an exhilarating concoction of flowers, grasses (basically, everything I’m allergic to), fruit, wood, leaves and the calming bouquet of familiar household cleansers.

Hours later, we arrived at an intoxicating blend of jasmine, gardenia and a trace of basketball shoe left out in the rain. Next came the bottle. Agreeing on the shape brought out the worst in Madame P. She wanted Watering Can, in tribute to my amateur gardening skills. I wanted something more inclusive. Computer Screen with Dog Leash was one suggestion. She shook her head violently.

“Flip Flop?” I threw out.  “Non! Non! Non!” Madame P. hollered. “Grocery Bag?” I tossed out. “Peut-être,” she conceded in exhaustion.  I sent the senior v.p. on her way back to Simi Valley, and waited anxiously for the results. A few weeks later, a package arrived, special delivery. Poking out of the box: A bottle in the shape of a Jewish star. An homage to my heritage? Or just a clever, Hanukkhah-tinged marketing device? Either way, it smelled divine. I started shrieking with joy. The name was equally thrilling. Instead of “My Generic Fragrance,” which must’ve seemed, well, too generic, Madame P. arrived at the all-encompassing “Short Jewish Gal.”

I’m told the mavens at Odeurs Unlimited are planning an all-out holiday assault. They’ve priced it right, too. Only $250 an ounce. Come December, I’ll be part of the national promotional push. So look for me at your local supermarket, synagogue, PetCo and Starbucks. Stop by and show some love. Pick up a bottle or two of "Short Jewish Gal." I might slip you a discount when Madame P.’s not looking. Then again, I might not. Hey, we’ve got a son in college and another one on the way. Every dollar counts. Ca-ching! Oh. And check out my upcoming body soufflé, portable potion solid, fragrance roller ball and lip gloss duo, due out in the spring. Merci beaucoup for your support.