By Amanda Addison
Breathe right
If you are a returning student to U of L, perhaps you have noticed that there’s something missing. Perhaps you believe what is missing is our lovely college newspaper in general, if you’re like me and can’t seem to locate any issues without leaving the Humanities Building. However, now that our sweltering summer days seem to be at a halt, if we look back to those first few weeks, our college experience seems to be lacking something that it had before. For some reason, to the overwhelming joy of U of L students, campus no longer smells like six-month old popcorn wrapped in Dave Ragone’s dirty underwear..
Perhaps this could be attributed to a band of several students who carry Febreze spray bottles in that little hammer thing on their Unionbay carpenter jeans. These cleanly students, however, are as elusive as the popular albino squirrel. They are usually only spotted . . . well, I’ve never seen any college student who carries Febreze. I don’t even think I know college students who do their laundry regularly. So maybe it’s the Febreze Clan. Perhaps those wonderful engineering analysts (or as I like to refer to them . . . the Jets) over at Air Pollution Control finally put the smack-down on Purina. Actually, it was neither of these. And it’s time to take the blame off Purina for on-campus funk, even though it’s too late.
If anyone remembers the fall semester of 2000 at all, at around one in the afternoon, it was becoming a health advisory not to walk outdoors. I can remember walking to my car (which was parked ever so far away on the evil side of Eastern Parkway) and feeling a little light-headed. The smell was unbearable, which might account for cars racing out of the parking lots, taking no heed of the pedestrians attempting to walk on the sidewalks. At first, I attributed the smell to engineers in general. I mean, all that studying allots them no time for showering, shaving, or just basic hygiene; I can’t say my suspicions were entirely unfounded. But eventually, I think everyone realized that the odor wasn’t coming from the unhygienic engineers, but those huge smokestacks that Purina has tried to assimilate into our campus by attaching giant letters to them. But it wasn’t Purina either.
All this time, the odor we have been blaming Purina for was actually coming from . . . Allgood Foods. Yes, that yummy company on Floyd Street that has since relocated all our peanut butter goods was really the one causing all the stink. And since the smell has disappeared, you, as a concerned olfactory citizen, may ask, how do you know it was Allgood? How do I know? The answer, my friend, is a frightening one, and I suggest that all children under age seven please stop reading this article, lest you find your sense of smell violated.
Since Allgood has relocated, its nose-battering fumes have assaulted others. Finally, U of L students are free to walk into the semi-fresh air without passing out on their way to the Floyd Street Lot. Unfortunately, those who now live in a two-mile radius of the new Allgood Foods Building (and when I say “those”, I mean “ME!!”) now have to combat the odor in their own homes. That’s right, students. While you enjoy your nice clean(er) campus air, my nostrils are being assaulted as I chase my cat Jezebel through my neighborhood every time someone opens the door and lets her out. Allgood has moved to less than a mile from my own home, so now I smell the peanut-buttery nastiness all the time, not just when I’m at school. This is my sacrifice. I shall suffer so that you don’t have to. Because that’s the kind of person I am . . . kind, caring, and lacking the funds to move.
