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Tales of rotten food...
Okay, so Scott’s tale of rotten chicken reminded me of a story:
Back in the day when I was working at Gateway when they still had stores, an odd, faint garbage-like odor had descended in the back corner of the store. On the opposite side of that wall of the showroom floor was the employee dining area, which had a fridge.
I pointed this out to my boss, who didn’t notice it for a few days. Eventually it became stronger, and I got so fed up with no one taking the initiative and told my boss I was going to clean it. He said he’d give me any sales he got covering the floor for me, which was fine, and I went about the cleansing of the dining area.
So, I open the fridge, figuring that’s the problem area. There were lunch containers that had names of people I knew had quit at least a year ago. The freezer part of the fridge literally had three inches of ice built up on every side but the door, and one frozen dinner actually frozen into that ice to the point that I could not pull it out. There were also all kinds of leaks, spills, and dried who-knows-what pm the shelves and doors.
So I haul the freezer-brick out and drop it in the sink and get it melting away, start removing old containers and moldy food, and wiping down the fridge. I’m at this for a few hours and eventually I come across a small Tupperware that felt like there was hardly anything in it. I take the thing over to the sink to rinse it, because my mom always told me never to throw ‘em out. About this time, my boss (Bill) and the lady who trains customers (Barb) come in to sort of poke fun at my suffering (in a friendly manner, we were like that). I open the Tupperware over the sink, and out comes the bones of a chicken wing and a drumstick…
…and the foulest, most rotten, most unholy befouling reek that has ever been unleashed upon mankind. Words do not do justice to the stench of rotting death that poured out of that tiny 6†x 6†x 2†tuppy. It was ungodly.
Barbara gives a sort of short cry of shock and FLEES, full out run down the hall away from the room. Bill staggers backwards and tries to swear, but actually starts gagging and tearing up. I damn near threw up, my eyes were watering, and I now faced a less pleasant problem. The bones were in the sink, and in my panic I had turned the water on to try and rinse them down the drain which, obviously, didn’t work. One of my other co-workers comes back at this time and stops in mid-sentence as he sees Bill retreating away from the room gasping. He gets wind of the odor and HE takes off down the hall.
So I grab the now-soaked “bones of unholy reek +hajillion†with my bare hands, shove them in the nearest garbage bag which was in a mostly-empty 30 gallon garbage can, tie it off, shout “COMING THROUGH!â€, and take off (eyes watering, retching) out the back door blowing by another co-worker who promptly got a whiff and started shouting profanities.
Even after the bones were outside the building in the dumpster and disposed of, that odor took the rest of the weekend to disperse. Got-damn chicken leftovers. They must have been rotting in there for at least a year.
The good news is that the fridge got cleaned and I got a $25 gift certificate for Best buy from Bill for “having a gut of ironâ€. He said he didn’t know how I held back from projectile vomiting all the way down the hall.
Any other rotten food stories from you form-goers?
Back in the day when I was working at Gateway when they still had stores, an odd, faint garbage-like odor had descended in the back corner of the store. On the opposite side of that wall of the showroom floor was the employee dining area, which had a fridge.
I pointed this out to my boss, who didn’t notice it for a few days. Eventually it became stronger, and I got so fed up with no one taking the initiative and told my boss I was going to clean it. He said he’d give me any sales he got covering the floor for me, which was fine, and I went about the cleansing of the dining area.
So, I open the fridge, figuring that’s the problem area. There were lunch containers that had names of people I knew had quit at least a year ago. The freezer part of the fridge literally had three inches of ice built up on every side but the door, and one frozen dinner actually frozen into that ice to the point that I could not pull it out. There were also all kinds of leaks, spills, and dried who-knows-what pm the shelves and doors.
So I haul the freezer-brick out and drop it in the sink and get it melting away, start removing old containers and moldy food, and wiping down the fridge. I’m at this for a few hours and eventually I come across a small Tupperware that felt like there was hardly anything in it. I take the thing over to the sink to rinse it, because my mom always told me never to throw ‘em out. About this time, my boss (Bill) and the lady who trains customers (Barb) come in to sort of poke fun at my suffering (in a friendly manner, we were like that). I open the Tupperware over the sink, and out comes the bones of a chicken wing and a drumstick…
…and the foulest, most rotten, most unholy befouling reek that has ever been unleashed upon mankind. Words do not do justice to the stench of rotting death that poured out of that tiny 6†x 6†x 2†tuppy. It was ungodly.
Barbara gives a sort of short cry of shock and FLEES, full out run down the hall away from the room. Bill staggers backwards and tries to swear, but actually starts gagging and tearing up. I damn near threw up, my eyes were watering, and I now faced a less pleasant problem. The bones were in the sink, and in my panic I had turned the water on to try and rinse them down the drain which, obviously, didn’t work. One of my other co-workers comes back at this time and stops in mid-sentence as he sees Bill retreating away from the room gasping. He gets wind of the odor and HE takes off down the hall.
So I grab the now-soaked “bones of unholy reek +hajillion†with my bare hands, shove them in the nearest garbage bag which was in a mostly-empty 30 gallon garbage can, tie it off, shout “COMING THROUGH!â€, and take off (eyes watering, retching) out the back door blowing by another co-worker who promptly got a whiff and started shouting profanities.
Even after the bones were outside the building in the dumpster and disposed of, that odor took the rest of the weekend to disperse. Got-damn chicken leftovers. They must have been rotting in there for at least a year.
The good news is that the fridge got cleaned and I got a $25 gift certificate for Best buy from Bill for “having a gut of ironâ€. He said he didn’t know how I held back from projectile vomiting all the way down the hall.
Any other rotten food stories from you form-goers?
Comments
Like, for example, guinea pigs.
Not for the very squeamish, or those eating or about to eat.