Friday started like most days. I was up early and headed to work. It was a great sunrise. Life seemed good.
Earlier in the week,I had taken a crock of home made mustard pickles to school to share. (The recipe is on this blog.) Some bosses have chocolates or mints on their desk to create a warm, welcoming, homey atmosphere. Not me, I had pickles. They were a huge hit. Crisp tasty and unique, even the most picky eater was enticed into try the pickles. The entire crock was gone by 2:00.
Now fast forward to that idyllic Friday morning. I had one more crock of pickles and it seemed like a great idea to share again. While cruising down Eagle road, I was suddenly cut off by a white car swerving into my lane and abruptly turning into a parking lot. I hit the brakes and swerved the opposite direction narrowly avoiding a trip to the auto body repair shop. Then it hit me. A sudden sharp smell of pickle brine.
There on the floor lay my pickle crock gushing brine into the carpet. I quickly made it into a parking lot. I jumped out of the car, grabbing a pile of blankets and sweat shirts from the back seat, and flung open the car door. The previous contents of pickles remained in the crock, but a half gallon of pickle brine was sinking into the carpet.
After soaking up as much as brine as I could, I continued on to school, windows open, sunroof open, laughing like a mad man.
STATUS REPORT: The pickles were enjoyed by many. The blankets and sweat shirts may never be the same. After vacuuming and shampooing the carpet three time, my car only faintly smells like pickles. I'm kind of enjoying the new ambiance...
Comments