perfume review 1 - tunisian patchouli

having collected the fish banh mi in its oily paper jacket, i set off on my grand adventure. i intended to see roses and fat jade plants in gardens, to climb a hill to a forested park, and to eat a pastry from a popular bakery. before this, i would finally buy some perfume. i hadn't given much thought to the order of things. half of the sandwich was tucked away in my backpack, where the advanced noses of the perfumiers would surely detect it.

i felt untethered and happy; i ate while walking. lots of beautiful old women live in this city. one of them smiled at me. i pretended to watch myself from her perspective. how untethered she looks in her beautiful dress, letting all those pieces of carrot fall on the sidewalk. it's good to enjoy yourself like that while you're young.

up the block a kid dropped her tennis ball - i bent quickly to catch it, missed - got it with my foot instead.

"sorry!" she said.

"no worries!" already i could tell something had gone wrong. my heart was pounding. sometimes this happens when i bend over and stand up again, so i walked on, but within a minute a dull, tight pain developed in my chest. i started to worry. in the last month i've wondered occasionally if i'll die now that i'm alone, and then i worry people will think i did it on purpose. and then, on top of being dead, my reputation will be ruined.

in the perfume store: loud music, bright lights. three different vials of patchouli, each from a different place of origin. i tried to make a joke which didn't land. my hand shook as i dripped oil onto cardstock strips. i couldn't even smell the third oil.

at the register, the shopkeeper chatted with a rich man and his son. the man and the boy - or maybe just the boy - had been in france, and the shopkeeper tested the boy's french. every minute or so, she made one move toward the goal of setting me up with a small vial of tunisian patchouli. i wiped away sweat from my upper lip two or three times and thought of classy ways to express that you're about to faint. i'm soo sorry - is there anywhere i might be able to sit down?

thankfully it didn't come to that. i went back to the apartment and felt worse, better, worse again. it became clear that i would survive. the next evening i remembered the patchouli oil and tried it out.

almost a cold scent when it opens. snow, then cinnamon, then pure patchouli. vegetal sweet-spiciness. somewhat like ginger. i would roll around in it like catnip &/ wear it every day, but it is definitely making my nose itch, so i'll have to explore other options. a 5-dollar tragedy.