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Great Gildersleeve Something Died In The Fridge

Brenda and I share a desk/cubicle type thing.  So when we get off the air, she goes to that computer and I head anywhere that doesn’t annoy her, which is usually in another county.  After 5 hours together in a small slightly padded room with a huge window, we need some space and as much as we love each other, sitting just inches between us isn’t quite enough.  So today I decided to go to our luxury break room.

I sat down in the far chair. It took maybe nano-seconds to catch a scent that told me “something ain’t right.”  After some searching,  I came to the conclusion the smell was emanating from the very thing I was sitting across from…the communal refrigerator. The communal refrigerator is a place only the brave dare to enter.  But I had to at least take a look, ‘er a sniff.

Opening the door proved to be a really bad move, the smell that wafted out was somewhere between incredibly nasty and down right deadly. Good thing I’ve had my shots and can hold my breath for longer than 10 seconds.  I quickly shut the door, but it was too late, the genie had been let out of the bottle.

The smell went rushing down the hall like a three year old escaping a hotel room to go swimming naked. (side note, our daughter did that in Joplin, MO, when she was three) It hit Linda at the front desk and made the phones inoperable for at least 15 minutes.  Not being satisfied the smell continued down the hall and assaulted our business manager as she came out of the mail room. It was looking really bad, especially since Friday was payday.

 

Watching the carnage, I knew there was only one thing I could do, I had to open the fridge door and put the smell back in the refrigerator.  When you get overwhelmed by something as bad as what came out, you tend not to think quite right.  So I opened the door again ,in those ten seconds of holding my breath, I saw the culprit,  It was a tupperware  bowl with a moldy piece of fish.

I grabbed the bowl knowing if somehow it should get open, humanity as we know it would end.  I sealed it in three Albertsons grocery bags to very little effect, those bags just aren’t made as well as they used to be. With the second ticking I knew I had one last chance and that was to get it to the trash bin.  So I ran, not thinking about my own safety with the sealed bag in my hands.  I could hear Linda cheering me on with what little breath she had left, “run Kevin run.” An incredible soundtrack started playing in my head and I could hear the “chachchngggg, chachchnggg” as I moved.

 

I went out the door and headed the forty feet to the trash. Then I realized I had a new problem, every dog, cat and other critter that loved to roll in smelly things was drawing a bead on me.  I had to move faster, if the contents of my package were to fall into enemy hands, the smell would be carried to homes throughout central Boise, putting thousands, maybe even millions at risk of certain..the thought of it made me ill, I couldn’t fail.

With one last burst of amazing speed, I made it to the trash, flipped open the lid and with a mighty heave, tossed the live grenade in the enemy bunker….’er a tossed the bag in the trash.  But I wasn’t done yet.  With at least three cross bred hounds and a pommy with an attitude, closing fast (well Pommies pretty well have attitudes anyway), I had to get the lid shut..

Thanks goodness I have professional experience in shutting the lids on large trash bins.  All the years of having to dispose of horse dung in our trash bin prepared me for this moment.  It was my time, my chance to save if not the world at least a small part of it.  I reached behind the trash bin, flipped the lid with a mighty flick and with a THUMP, it was done.  The moldy fish was sealed tight where it will wait for the trash truck to take it and properly dispose of it in the landfill, where a thankful gull will pick it apart and turn it into a bomb on someone’s windshield.  I really think these things out.

I walked back to the building to what had now changed to a heroic soundtrack (in my head) knowing that those inside would never really know just how close they came to a serious case of Salmon-smella.

Kevin Mee

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