For nearly a week, I’ve found nothing to say here. Sadly, last night while Jeff and I were at dinner, I came back from the rest room announcing that I had (along the lines of) the following opening for a blog entry: “Just because they’re called urinal cakes doesn’t mean they should smell like buttercream frosting.”
Pathetic that I’m reduced to posting about this.
But truly it was disconcerting to walk into the men’s room and encounter a strong aroma of strawberry Creme Savers® and then to discover that the smell was emanating from the bright pink deodorizer in the solitary urinal.
Which also made me muse to myself about the fact that somewhere there are factories that make urinal cakes, and people whose livelihood depends upon the sale of urinal cakes. And to wonder why they’re almost invariably pink (though usually a soft pink, the one in the restroom at CPK was a brighter shade).
For some odd reason, as I sound this out in my head, I now find myself mentally pronouncing, in the British fashion, “uRInal cakes.”
By the way, my limited research on what’s in these things turns up the following statement on a janitorial supply web site: “WARNING: This product contains a chemical known to the State of California to cause cancer.” So why do they make them smell like candy?