Bam!

If I had any suspicions that my arrival at my new job would go unnoticed, they have been thoroughly dispelled. This story could easily lead to a discussion about the relative merits of infamy and obscurity, but I will leave that for another time. As for which is better, I'll let you decide.

-----------------------------

In my defense, I blame today's corporate predilection for closed windows and recirculated air. The building's ventilation system (which is either a) woefully inadequate, or b) too damn good at its job) also did its part. Plus, I had no idea it would smell that bad.

This morning, I decide to take a healthy lunch to work, in contrast with yesterday's meal -- specks of chicken, floating in a pool of oil like stunned waders. So I pour some mixed vegetables -- broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower -- into a tupperware thingy. Off I go, hi-ho, hi-ho, etc.

An uneventful morning passes, and all of a sudden it's lunchtime. It's cloudy and rainy outside, so I figure a hot meal is better than a cold one. What's this? A microwave! I add some water to the veggies, punch a few buttons, and get back to my desk to stare down at the complete lack of work to occupy me.

After a while, I hear faint beeps from the lunch room, so I go and get my food. It's overcooked, but whatever. It's going to be mushy cauliflower for lunch, or nothing at all. Mmmm.

About halfway through my meal, I hear a murmuring. Not from my stomach (I know what you were thinking, Ned) but from the offices nearby. I hear the occasional "mumble... mumble... cauliflower? ..." and one or two "what the crap is that stink?"

Let me take this opportunity to provide you with this rather dense bit of information, from "The World's Healthiest Foods" :

Cauliflower contains phytochemicals that release odorous sulfur compounds when heated. These odors become stronger with increased cooking time.

Yes, in one of those unappreciated miracles of chemistry, the knowledge of which I would have very much appreciated when planning today's lunch, cauliflower starts to smell like a wet fart after prolonged cooking. I've cooked cauliflower before, but never really noticed the smell. This could be a telling indictment of my cooking ability.

Once it dawns on me that the cauliflower in my food is stinking up the whole building, I'm at a loss. What I want to do is bust up laughing, and I give it a couple of false starts, but it's hard to work up a hearty guffaw when people are going, "Man, what's that smell?" and others are responding, "Someone made cauliflower," and still others are going, "Hey, it's good for you!" So I just end up sitting there with a stupid grin on my face.

A director comes by my cubicle, asking, "What the hell is that?"

I lean over apologetically. "Is it really that bad? I had no idea."

"Oh, it's you?" He peers thoughtfully at my bowl of vegetables, then shakes his head.

"No, no, it can't be. It's all the way at the front door now, it smells like a dead body or something!" He disappears past me, looking for the oozing corpse that must be ripening, like a fine cheese, in the next room.

After that, an interlude of absolute quiet. I cringe inwardly, imagining that the entire office has migrated en masse to the lobby, and are now pressing their mouths against the front door, sucking at the fresh air outside. I imagine the view this might present someone approaching from the street, and I am cheered slightly. I start to get back into my research, busily typing away on the keyboard.

Click-click.

Pause.

Click-click-click.


Psssht.


Oh, dear god.


Psssssssssssssssssssssht.


An administrator goes by with a can of air freshener held high, responding to the occasional query.

"It's food, folks. No, it's not the bathrooms. It's food."


On the plus side, I bet everyone knows who I am now.

But yeah. No more cauliflower at work.