Air "fresheners" just keep getting larger and more awful. This one was hulking on the desk of our hotel in Singapore like a cancer. An inoperable one, I'm guessing. It had some kind of blue substance whirling around inside it, emitting a distinct odor of bleach.
Cheap hotels love fresheners, but swankiness doesn't offer any guarantees. I was waiting for someone at the fancy-schmancy Mandarin Oriental the other day, and I had to move to the other side of the lobby because of the nauseatingly sweet smell pouring out of the air vent over my head. Elevators are the worst, though, because you can't escape. If I had written No Exit, I'd have put the actors in a stalled elevator ... with a super-turbo-charged air freshener.