One of the worst thing about sharing a kitchen in an office is the funky odors that emanate when something has been left to ... grow, shall we say?
I don't even understand how this happens as I meticulously check expiration dates and yes, I am THAT girl that will dump an entire gallon of milk out if today is the expiration date stamped on the jug. Does one honestly forget that they brought a bowl up cut-up cantaloupe to work 9 weeks ago and forgot about it? (Who would do that to a yummy melon??) I don't get it.
This week, the smell arrived. A particularly pungent, offensive-to-all-senses smell. A trio of us worked our way through the fridge tossing old items including a banana SO ripe that the entire thing was black - not even a hint of other color. The smell just didn't quit.
Stumped until Wendi couldn't take it any more and tore through every container in there whether it was brand new, old but not expired or a box of leftovers from yesterday. The culprit? My wedges of Laughing Cow cheese, of course. Whoops.
Wendi pulled them out and took a sniff - nearly dropping dead from the smell - and immediately threw them in the trash. Then the trash got taken outside. Then I got chastised.
I'll have you know they weren't expired, they just decided to expire.
Regardless, I am embarrassed for the pain and suffering I put my co-workers through over the last 3 days. I am sorry guys. And that smell? Yeah, still from my cheese. I know it smells like rotten feet. And no, I don't know how long until it clears out. And yes, I'll buy you a new apple since yours tastes like rotten feet.