Stinkers

Have you ever noticed people who wear perfume are often the most needy? Demanding? Flamboyant? Attention-getting? Friendly?

I love my drawing group. It's a rare opportunity for a social life, but there are members who seem desperate for attention, always women. It's easy to identify who they are as they always dress flamboyantly. Bright, attention-getting clothing is always the first clue.

There is one who constantly talks too much and too loudly. She dyes her hair bright red, wears lace-up boots, frilly dresses, and lots of make-up. She arrives early, canvases the location, greeting everyone, and bullies her way into conversations making herself the center of attention. LOUDLY. It's very important for her to whip out her sketchbook to show everyone all the art she's been working on since we saw her last. She is the show, the reason we have convened. I sense she needs confirmation and encouragement to be told she's valuable and loved. She often stinks so I avoid getting close to her. She doesn't come to all the meetings. The last time we saw her she went on and on about how toxic paint is BUT, oh well, I guess I'll just get cancer!! She kept repeating this and laughing as if cancer is the worst that can happen after a chemical exposure. Clearly she's never watched anyone die from cancer and clearly she has never heard of Multiple Chemical Sensitivity which I'm sure would be her ultimate nightmare. But how do I explain this to someone who has no clue and looks at me like a deer caught in headlights when I try? There is another woman who loves wearing bright purple clothing with hats. I do love her creative expression. She also smells but not excessively. She's not as noisy. I have found the amount of flamboyance and noise is often directly related to the amount of perfume they are wearing. She doesn't come to all the meetings either. Thankfully.

During our last meeting another flamboyantly-dressed noise maker showed. I hadn't seen her for a long, long time so I said, "Hey! I haven't seen you for a long, long time!" Perhaps she was moved by the fact I noticed she had been missing or just excited that someone was paying attention to her so without warning she moved in for a hug. Arms up, reaching, grabbing. I hardly know this woman. She seems very nice, but this is unacceptable. I immediately put my hand out and said, "I don't hug." I wanted to say, Don't you dare wipe that shit all over me! There was a tree behind me and people on each side of me so I couldn't move to escape.

She looked at me with such horror. I've written blog posts on hugging so I know this reaction to my hug ban is not unusual after all I am the anomaly, the odd one out, the strange one who doesn't welcome affection even from a stranger. The group had gathered in the sharing circle so I sensed everyone around me was watching because, after all, she did this to give herself center stage as if to scream LOOK! I AM LOVED!! In the past I have tried to keep "Perfume is My Poison" from becoming my identity and mantra, but this was too much. The woman was demanding an explanation with her grief-stricken facial expression.

"I am deathly allergy to perfume."

She stared. I repeated, "DEATHLY. ALLERGIC."

She responded with, "Oh, and I do have perfume on today."

It was all I could do not to scream, YOU DON'T THINK I KNOW THAT? I CAN SMELL YOU TWENTY FEET AWAY!! But I couldn't. People were watching and it doesn't pay to be rude to someone who is trying to be ultra-friendly unless you want to be thought of as a bitch. People just don't get how it makes me feel to be attacked, poisoned, threatened. She backed away while slowly comprehending what I said and moved to the other side of our circle. I should have walked away, left the vicinity, but I felt compelled not to make a scene and to stay. I went home ill and spent the next few days with exhaustion, nausea and headaches. I need to be more vigilant with these women. After all, I can see (and smell) them coming. There is plenty of warning. Attempting a social life comes with risks.

I think it's so strange that it's always the flamboyantly-dressed perfume wearers who are the huggers as if they need to infiltrate your personal space and make it known they exist. By touching you they mark and claim you. Like an animal. They are also the most needy, most demanding, most attention-getting, of course, the stinkiest, and the most creatively dressed.

So now that I've written this post on stinkers out of frustration and mostly out of anger and I had a lot of fun with the illustrations, I'm having second thoughts. As much as I resent these unenlightened people poisoning me, trying to kill me, and making me sick, they are really nice people otherwise. I remember when I first moved into my house, it was the stinkers who showed up on my doorstep presenting welcome gifts of scented candles. Anyway, I wouldn't want to hurt their feelings even if they care little for my feelings and well-being. Bottom line, if you try to kill me, I get to make fun of you. However, I'm torn between satisfaction and guilt. I might delete this....

Hug-Free Zone

Years ago I read an article on the benefits of hugging. They claimed all kinds of health issues if a person wasn't hugged enough in their lifetime and cited studies on belligerent babies growing up to be mass murders who were purposely not hugged in these experiments. I'm not sure who would impose this sort of abuse on an infant, but I bought into it. I decided I had too many boundaries and was determined to be hugged non-stop regardless of the ramifications of over-hugging. (Over-hugging seems equally as dangerous, but it's very American to believe if a little bit of something is good for you, then a lot of it has to be better.) I hugged everyone, all the time. Friends, co-workers, relatives, boyfriends, religious people, plumbers, milkmen, grocery cashiers, postal people, employers and landlords.  A stranger once told me I was a great hugger. I was a very friendly, affectionate person.

Then I became chemically sensitive...and people kept hugging me! Smelly people! My self-training was so automatic not only would I let them, but my arms would go up in welcome. Even people I knew who were stinky and those who knew I couldn't be around it. They'd hug me anyway and I'd hug them back. As soon as I could smell the poison, I would wonder what ever possessed me? I knew better, but I was addicted. Many times it was necessary to remove my contaminated clothes in my car, throw them in the back seat, and drive home half naked.

I had to re-train myself not to hug. Sad, I know, but necessary. It took me a long time, too. I studied the warning signs. Timing was a clear indicator. If we were at the end of a visit or saying good-bye, beware. I'd see the it's-time-to-hug look in their eyes. Everyone has this look and often they are assessing whether hugging is appropriate or not. I'd discreetly step back and cross my arms. This sort of behavior usually screams BOUNDARIES! NO WAY! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! Those who don't read body language well will begin to slightly lean toward me.  Step back again ever so slightly or turn sideways. Their hands start moving upward. If I had stepped back properly they would need to step toward me before making contact. One more attempt at getting closer and I'd have to raise my hands to block their advance or a real quick, "It was nice to see you. Bye!" wave with palms out and walk away. All these steps can happen very quickly. Don't underestimate their speed. We are hug-addicted people.

Sometimes when I see the it's-time-to-hug look, I verbalize my anti-social behavior. "I don't hug. It's dangerous."  The looks of shock and disbelief I'd get made me feel like I just confessed to torturing baby animals. Not hugging was unthinkable. With more explanation, they'd look at me like I told them I had cancer. Oh, I'm soooo sorry! It must be so difficult. I'd tilt my head, do the grief nod and reply, "Oh, it is so hard, but unavoidable."

There are events that are conducive to hugging. Family reunions, for example. Just try telling your smelly great Aunt Martha who hasn't seen you for a year you don't hug. After being reprimanded with That's ridiculous, come here! she'll grab you. At any religious meeting, hugging is mandatory. It's a spiritual-fellowship-bonding thing. Dating sometimes inspires hugging, but normally hugging starts after the dating phase while in the relationship phase. At this point, intimacy is kind of expected and hopefully they've already passed their fragrance-free training.

I've often thought about having a t-shirt or a button made which might save me some repetitive disclosure. Do Not Hug Me! But I fear this would inspire bad jokes which would annoy me greatly. Maybe someday.