The rivulet, delighting in its strength, ran with a young man's speed.

Hey again there, kids. It's your old pal Stew here, smelling April Fresh... and man does that piss me the hell off. Why, you ask... well, lemme 'splain.

You see, without exception I loathe the fragrances that New Jersey laboratories have forced consumers to reek of for so many long years. It's not out of any allergy or sensitivity either; I just think they just stink. When clothing is laundered, by definition dirt and odors that don't belong on those garments are washed away and removed. If clothes were intended to smell like "Ocean Breeze," "Mountain Summer," or "Sunday Afternoon Masturbation Session" then they would be shipped that way directly from the factory. So, if anything, clothes are supposed to smell like industrial textile dye.
Personally, I want my shirts to be shirt-scented. No more, no less.

There's got to be some sort of racket behind all of this... because really, we are talking about Jersey here. Otherwise, why the hell do all the "fragrance-free" versions of soaps cost more? Other then the pseudo-environmental shade of green that's on the label, what can possibly justify jacking up the price to take something out of the production process? Can you imagine if they tried this at your local Subway?

"I'd like a BMT on wheat please. Double cheese, with lettuce, pickles, and olives."
"Here you go sir. Enjoy."
"Hey thanks man... wait. Why are there cucumbers on my sandwich? I didn't order them."
"I apologize about the cucumbers sir, but the management has decided to add fragrant vegetables to all our sandwiches so that valued customers like you will feel more positive and healthy about eating at Subway."
"Despite your staggering level of candor, that's absolutely insane. I don't want cucumbers on my sandwich, they make me sick. Take them off, Jared."
"As you wish sir, that'll be 75 cents."
"You're fucking shitting me, right?"

Longtime readers can well imagine the parade of obscenities that logically follow. Believe me, it's not a pretty picture... I once spent the better part of an hour berating some hapless outsourced Indian customer service guy when an extra $1 charge showed up on my ISP bill. I'd damn sure go to fucking war on someone that tried to hijack my lunch.

What we're talking about in the average size bottle of laundry detergent isn't even as substantial as a couple of cucumber slices. (a vegetable that revolts me, but pleases many a thirty-something housewife) Because product fragrances are so intensely concentrated, individual packages of anything hold only a fraction of a drop. Even the Sam's Club size items.
Think about that. The average consumer (outside of chemistry majors) can't even measure how little fragrance is being taken out of their soap, yet we're stuck with a surcharge for not wanting to purchase it.

That's if you can even find a scent-free variety for sale. With luck, you'll find the tiny airplane liquor bottle sized soap stuck in the back of the top shelf. We all know that's a sucker's game, though. Even worse is going to the Whole-Earth HappyTofu Hippie Lovebead Co-Op. Price per ounce on the stuff those burnouts sell rivals the GDP of most South American nations, and The Stew's not made of money here... so for now, I'll have to be "Arctic Chill"-in and just resent it.

Hey, if you happen to manage a Costco or something: seriously dude, get someone on the phone and let's fix this shit. Or at least convince Proctor & Gamble to make a "cotton" scented Tide.