There is a time and place for everything, or so I’m told.
Imagine you’re sitting in your parlor having tea with the Ladies Historical Society of Cherokee County, when suddenly something putrid wafts your way. You can’t avoid the smell and you are fairly certain you aren’t the cause of it. Fairly certain. What do you do?
So far, the other ladies don’t seem to notice. Trapped in their heated discussion of the Battle of Harvey’s Well during the War of Northern Aggression, they keep flitting with nary a turned-up nose or look toward the window. But you KNOW something is amiss.
Do you have to wait for noses to hit the air and conversation to stop before you comment on the odor?
Better yet, think about sitting on the front porch of your double-wide when you watch the action happen. I’m not talking about a bear in the woods or a vagrant ‘dropping the kids off at the pool’ in public. I’m talking about a truck dumping 350 – 1940 cubic feet of sewage down your avenue. (And it is stunning how readily available the average payload of a sewage truck is on Google.)
You can’t make this stuff up.
Sometimes a blogger is stumbling in the dark looking for material for his weekly edition and sometimes it literally is dumped in his lap. Fortunately, not actually into my lap, but a county nearby – and I don’t even live in Florida! This happened last week about fifteen miles away and I can still smell the funny.
I noticed it on Twitter and thought, “Those poor buggers.” Then I realized it happened on roads I have travelled. I have tracked that highway. Skidded down that intersection. Of course, I was laughing so hard there were tears in my eyes!
This tweet is comedic gold when you have the maturity of a seven-year-old. It begs for captioning. Here are my top so far:
- The last time I ate Mexican, I dumped my load in several locations too.
- “I told you Leon’s skid marks were legendary.”
- “With mud tracks like that, we’re gonna have to throw this pair out.”
- “Sir, we called Hazmat and they said they wouldn’t come because they’re sick of your $hit.”
- This one falls into the “you can’t make this crap up,” column.
Now that you’re giggling, I would like to turn this around as a teachable moment. Remember, if you drop your load on a public intersection, you might find it on Twitter… or somebody’s blog.