I'm thinking the worst kind, various thoughts probe my eyeballs to the left of me, to the right. To the bottom. Can't be? Could it? Was there leakage of some sort? I find a spray bottle of disinfectant under the desk, accompanied with a stiff wash cloth that eerily resembles one that you might find in a teenaged boy's bedroom. I gingerly wipe down anything that is in the smell zone. Doesn't help at all.
I've heated up my dinner, Campbell's Chunky soup, creamy chicken corn
chowder. I have flashbacks of newborn poops. ~gag~ ...... ~gag~
After checking my breath a thousand times, sniffing my surroundings, I finally discover the smell is from the waste basket. I mean, so obvious, and sure enough there's a discarded salad container laced with parmigiano cheese ~gag~ ...... ~gag~. I have removed the offender to the far room, until 8:00am when the regular day staff begin to arrive. I have no choice but to return the stench under my desk.
In the meantime, people have been stopping by, chatting, and I'm wondering if they can smell that smell.
I arrive for my usual shift change for the graveyard shift ~starving~, say hello, discuss afternoon issues, etc. Except this time there's an alarm on our shared email account "All graveyard attendants are to wipe down their work areas before ending their shift".
F-U-C-K ! Now they think I'm the stinky one! I immediately walk to my supervisor's office and explain, and if you can imagine in a Jerry Seinfeld tone "It was the cheese - it was the cheese!"
After checking my breath a thousand times, sniffing my surroundings, I finally discover the smell is from the waste basket. I mean, so obvious, and sure enough there's a discarded salad container laced with parmigiano cheese ~gag~ ...... ~gag~. I have removed the offender to the far room, until 8:00am when the regular day staff begin to arrive. I have no choice but to return the stench under my desk.
In the meantime, people have been stopping by, chatting, and I'm wondering if they can smell that smell.
I arrive for my usual shift change for the graveyard shift ~starving~, say hello, discuss afternoon issues, etc. Except this time there's an alarm on our shared email account "All graveyard attendants are to wipe down their work areas before ending their shift".
F-U-C-K ! Now they think I'm the stinky one! I immediately walk to my supervisor's office and explain, and if you can imagine in a Jerry Seinfeld tone "It was the cheese - it was the cheese!"
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