Dear Irish Spring soap,

 I remember our first time like it was yesterday. I was strolling down the aisles at Super Target, buying things I didn’t need simply because they had that blasted red sale tag on them. I think I also bought soy milk which turned out to be delicious. For whatever reason, I ended up walking down your aisle and stopped in front of the numerous bars of soap on the shelf.

I had always been a Dove soap man. My father was a Dove soap man just as my Grandfather was a dove soap man. My great grandfather lived in the rural part of Mexico where flushing your toilet required a bucket of water, good aim and a dream of modern plumbing so, I’m not quite sure what he actually used but I know it wasn’t Dove. My point is, I was set in my ways. Yeah, the bland white box packaging wasn’t the most visually stimulating but, darn it, it did the job and that’s what mattered, right? Right? That box, it was the tighty whities of soap boxes and that was okay. You wear what you wash with, I say

Your commercials were the siren song that piqued my curiosity. Everyone was so cheery and the soap was so non-white, so colorful, so vibrant. During one viewing, I sniffed the television, when no one was watching, in hopes that something would waft through. Nothing did.

That day, standing in front of you, I stooped down, grabbed a box and took a big whiff. It was glorious. My nose suddenly knew how my mouth felt every time I stuffed it full of mango. There was a party in my nostrils and it was totally unprepared for it. A second, third, tenth, and fourteenth sniff were enough to convince me into purchasing one, sneaking it home, and into the shower with me.

That shower was amazing. Sensational scents were dancing all around while I lathered, singing a certain Backstreet Boy song like I was one of the group. What an experience. I continued this forbidden cleanliness dance until, shriveled and frail, you crumbled up and went down the drain. I shed one last tear down my Irish Spring scented cheek that night. Dove showers were never the same again.

Thanks for the memories, old friend. The other day, I was standing in front of the soap bars, in the soap aisle once again. I stooped down and grabbed an Olay bar, took a whiff and was floored. We’re still locked in an exclusive relationship for now. We’re going on six months now and it’s getting pretty serious.Thanks for broadening my horizons, this wouldn’t have been possible without you.

We’ll always have that one certain B-Street Boy song.

Fragrantly yours,

Adriel