I really don’t want them, but it appears I have no choice. Who’s bright idea was it, and why weren’t we, the consumer, consulted?
How do I know they’re not damaging my health?
Suddenly, it’s become impossible to purchase disposable garbage bags that don’t smell like they’ve spent the last few weeks in Heidi Fleiss’s boudoir. If the manufacturers must insist on impregnating their products with the odor of a whore’s bed chamber, I believe I have a right to know which chemicals are involved and if there’s any possibility they may be carcinogenic, because frankly, this being America, I can’t trust the manufacturer to put my welfare above his profit margin.
Presumably, this ‘essence de Mata Hari’ is meant to disguise the stench of garbage left too long in the kitchen trash can. I have news for the unsophisticated American executive whose idea led to this unwarranted intrusion of my olfactory organs: the collectors come twice a week and remove my rubbish before it reaches a peak of putrescence demanding the addition of your noxious chemicals. Garishly scented garbage bags may suit Americans content to hoard their rubbish for months to save a few dollars on trash removal, but this particular resident would prefer a standard, preferably bio-degradable (as if!) non-nasally insulting container designed solely for the purpose for which it is used.
I am, of course, overlooking the possibility that the inventor of these products intends they replace the bald eagle as a gloriously apt symbol of America and its way of life. The concept of a huge, scent-emitting, garbage bag capable of enclosing those many aspects of US culture rapidly decomposing in the great trash can of American political and socio-economic ideology, while disguising the resultant miasmic stench continually permeating the rest of the planet, may yet prove an excellent idea.
Just not in my kitchen, thank you.
Filed under: Wha’ d’yer think of it so far?