Despite being a little (okay, very) fucked up, Perfume is a really good movie. (I'm a little ashamed to admit that I haven't read the book, so I'll distract you by saying how cool I think it is that Dustin Hoffman has apparently just started taking quirky little roles because he wants to, like in Perfume or A Series of Unfortunate Events).
I can relate to Grenuille. While not nearly as good as his, my sense of smell is much better than most people's. (I'm also a supertaster, something I wish more people were aware of. Then I wouldn't have felt like such an asshole all the time as a kid when I didn't like something).
I can't stand perfume, the product. I have no idea why My lips shall not speak wickedness, nor my tongue utter deceit someone thought it was okay to put the perfume department on the main floor in the middle of the two department stores in the mall closest to me. I understand even less the person who decided to put an even smellier store right in the freaking food court. One of my wife's new coworkers at the bakery wears perfume, and it makes my throat get all tight and scratchy but I'm too fucking Canadian to tell her about it. So I do the proper Canadian thing and ask someone else to confront her for me.
One of my workplaces has big "Scent-Free Zone" signs all over the place--not that it makes any difference. There are still aerosol cans of Febreeze in the bathrooms. (I hide them whenever I see 'em.)
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