What's that Smell?

It hit me like a slap of hot cheese. My nostrils flared large enough to let in the new scent like a small spaceship entering the mothership to refuel. Unfortunately, this scented spaceship was sent from the enemy, and they were now inside, slipping around my nose holes and down into my throat, coating my tongue and my cheeks with their alien slime.

My brain was working overtime to describe and label this new material, taking several samples to test in the laboratory before reporting to the next office for post-inspection and possible problem solving. I open my teeth to relieve the heaviness that invades my airway, but it is for naught. This only releases more stench, rising to meet my nose once again and the cycle continues.

Being stuck in the office is limiting. There are only so many foods and drinks available to me as I run to the break room to try to mask the scent and the taste. When I finally got there, the long hallway seeming endless and darker than usual, I realized I wasn’t the only one the smell was affecting.

Craig from accounting was squatting over by the back door, drinking milk right from the carton and batting off Drake from sales with this free hand, also expecting that drinking something would taper off the taste in his mouth.

“I have never, in my 53 years, smelled something so vile,” whimpered Rebecca, “WHAT is that SMELL?!”

Rodrigo ran in from the back door of the kitchen, plowing over Craig and Drake. The milk carton shot out from Craig’s hand and landed on the carpeted part of the break room, spilling milk everywhere. Rodrigo sprang into action. Down on all fours, he licked up the small puddle that had landed next to him and sat up, sniffing.

Craig sat down and started tearing up, “Now I’m all wet and sloppy!” Starting to quiver with rage and sensory overload, Craig narrowed his eyes to focus on Rodrigo. Rodrigo licked his right paw and smoothed it over his ear into his fur.

“Who the hell let this cat in here!” Doug boomed, his bass-heavy voice causing all others in the breakroom to come to a wide-eyed halt.

Doug: A creature of some intimidation. Doug worked part time in the building, taking out garbage, sweeping, mopping, cleaning the restrooms, and dusting. The other half of the time Doug was the manager. He cast a larger shadow than the average silver-back gorilla, but he walked upright and hated bananas.

“DOUG!” Drake sneezed and squealed at the same time, “That’s the receptionist’s cat. His name is Rodrigo!”

Doug closed his eyes slowly, took a deep breath and with one swoop of his mighty arm, scooped up Rodrigo and stormed away. Withstanding the fear of the moment, the thick scent lingered in the air. I could hear everyone smacking their lips together, trying to understand the very origin of the stench. We could hear Doug yelling in the background, “I thought I told you not to bring your cats to work, Diane! This is your 6th and final warning!”

With the temporary distraction gone, we all raced to the fridge in an antsy line, trying not to topple into each other, looking for soda or baking soda, peanut butter, scissors to cut off our tongues, anything to rid us of this hideous curse!

I grabbed a Mountain Dew, Rebecca started sucking on a bunch of breath mints meant for guests, Craig stopped up the sink and had his head fully submerged before we realized he may be trying to end his life to make the smell stop. I pulled him out and rubbed his back as he sobbed. Rebecca suggested we all go outside for a breath of fresh air. We hoped the air would be fresh outside.

Several of the other employees were outside the building with their hands on their knees. Keith from the marketing department was leading a group in prayer to rid us of the stink that had interrupted our lives so rudely. When Keith finished a rather long-winded begging to any god that would listen, the others replied “Amen” and stretched slowly to a standing position.

Noticing that we had joined the group, Brenda from the warehouse let out a surprised yip and ran to embrace each one of us. “I thought you were all goners! Victims of the unknown! Those who are suffering must be rescued from the horrible reeking stink that plagues this office and maybe the world!” Brenda has been outwardly over-dramatic since one of Diane the receptionist’s cats stole her wallet. She claimed it was treason and demanded revenge. The company gave her a nice check and told her to get back to work. I also hear she dresses up and reenacts The Last Supper at the park with her friends every Saturday.

Rebecca from costumer service restarted the previous conversation with the new group, “Seriously guys. What’s that smell?! We can’t even go outside to get rid of it!” The others nodded in frustration. One of the interns took off this flip flop and threw it into the bush. Linda from HR was burying her face in her shirt and gagging. Someone peeled out of the parking lot in a Nissan, yelling, “See you later, losers!” I looked at my watch. Five hours until quitting time.

While the others bantered, I stared into the clouds, clutching my empty Mountain Dew can with a grip just tight enough to not crush it.

“Maybe something or someone died! It smells like a rotting pile of hamster meat!”

“How would you know what hamster meat smells like?”

“It smells like zookeepers compiled every single type of animal feces in one bin and started it on fire!”

“It smells like my mother-in-law’s meatloaf mixed with my farts after I eat it.”

“The zombie apocalypse has clearly begun, and we’re stuck at work instead of collecting can goods and ammo.”

“Last time I was this disgusted, I was stuck inside a full porta-potty, rolling down the hill.”

Doug appeared with his sleeves rolled up and was holding a broom. His cargo pants held many vacuum attachments, a roll of garbage bags leaned out of his back pocket. “Break time over,” he murmured. We all begrudgingly dragged our feet back inside the building where we had experienced the first whiff of impurity. The intern disappeared into the bush that held his flip flop and was never seen again.