She had made the comment in humor earlier – but only in part. In truth – she really did think the restaurant’s spa-like bathroom merited an extra ten dollars on the bill for brunch. After all, bathrooms were a kind of sanctuary – the most intimate of activities (both sexy and embarrassing) were done there.
It was clean, tidy, tiled, and decorated in richly dark colors to create an ambiance of relaxation and comfort. The leather lounge chairs in a tucked away corner were lighted, inviting you to sit and read or enjoy a moment of reprieve from the hustle and scurry that were just outside the door. Most impressive was the choice it offered in soaps and lotions to top off your potty experience. “Vanilla Mulberry,” or “Lime Patchouli” for soaps and four other flavors of lotions were displayed at the sinks and on the walls facing those mirrored masterpieces of granite. Heaven.
In what was usually the most offensive olfactory environment in most places, this restaurant had offered a bouquet of pleasant aromas. She couldn’t decide which soap to use, so she used both and washed her hands twice.
Two hours later when the woman dressed in three layers of clothing crammed into the airline seat next to her – the heavy stench of body odor permeating every square foot of air around – she was overjoyed that her hands still smelled of patchouli.