Dear Scent Record Player,
You were an odd, messy thing. Another in a long line of really strange Christmas gifts from my aunt and uncle. Your scents were trapped in goo that were packaged in these black disks that looked like records and then you put them in the “player” which was plugged in and heated and then the chosen scent sort of … oozed through the air. It was awful. But my sister and I were fairly fascinated for a few minutes.
What I didn’t realize then but think is probably true: our aunt and uncle were interesting people. And probably pretty funny. But all the people who might have been able to verify that are dead. Or at least not answering my emails.
We always have our memories, though, don’t we? Thanks for being so dang weird.
-e.