Tesco in dereham has had a horrible "bad drainage" smell in the entrance area since before christmas 2012 [at least].
The
staff deny any knowledge of its utter obnoxiousness, but will admit
that they've had the same complaint from other customers.
Being a
hardened cynic, I have formed the opinion that it is possibly a ploy to
get people to buy more air fresheners/smelly candles.
But that's not my point...
I like "awkward moment" stories, but one I haven't come across yet goes like this:
You walk along one of the aisles in a supermarket and it is empty except for one girl who is stacking shelves.
As you get halfway along you notice the terrible smell.
Impersonating a really vile fart which had been trapped in a jar for years like an evil genie, fermenting, before being released to the public in full force.
Your mind races as you consider consulting the shelf stacking girl in case she hasn't smelled it.
There may be some "off" produce in the area - but, no. She might think it's you.
And what if it was her?
Would you truly want to embarrass the poor thing that much?
So you decide to run.
No again.
What if someone races around the aisle end, in a rush to grab some ingredient they forgot to buy earlier?
They might just get a good look at you, then smell that odourous vapour themselves.
They would definitely think it was you.
Unless you're pulling a really wry face. A look of utter disgust.
But the other shopper might have little or no sense of smell, in which case you'd just look incredibly daft.
your best bet [from experience] is to slowly abandon the offensive area and leave the aisle with as much grace as you can muster.
Better still, leave entirely and continue shopping somewhere else.
Similar dilemmas can happen in public toilets from the cubicle next door, but when it's busy you often hear the accompanying sound effects, and reactions of people waiting.
About Me
- Rookwings
- Norfolk, England, United Kingdom
- Mother of four [started young], grandmother of seven [nine soon], happily single; mostly, these days, doing voluntary work - with wildlife. I'm taller than only a handful of people, including my mother, with low B.M.I. I like creating artistically [most media]; computers; machines [especially power tools that help me create things faster]; and I hate waste. There's only one thing that really annoys me, therefore I'm easily pleased. =)
Monday, 18 February 2013
Wednesday, 13 February 2013
Sunday, 3 February 2013
A Smile for Sunday.
I'm not feeling my best at the moment, having had a chronic sinus infection since august 2012, which is probably compounded by the fact that most of my drains froze up and blocked during this recent harsh piece of winter.
Trouble is, they didn't magically unblock during the thaw, so I went on a scouting mission to see if there was anything in the supermarkets that might do the job.
I returned with two bottles.
One contained a sodium hypochlorite and sodium hydroxide mixture, and the other just the former.
Armed with the pair of products I migrated to the bathroom where I felt the first test should be performed.
Child-safety lids.
Don't you just love them?
You actually need a child to be able to unscrew them for you, and as I didn't have a two-year-old handy I make an assault on the bottles myself.
Plan A:
I did hint that I'm not in full health at the moment, and so the attempt was an utter failure - resulting in a metronome-like chorus of loud clicks, and with the lids not lifting a millimetre.
Plan B:
Not to be discouraged, I shut one bottle in the doorway and wrenched as hard as I could.
This resulted in a gobbet of the contents oozing out through the thread under the lid, all over my hand. Not a good thing. One should preferably keep one's corrosives under control.
Hard to rinse off when the drains are blocked, too.
Plan C:
I got a nice sharp knife and sliced off both the stubborn plastic lids in a satisfying, cheese-slice-type action and the stuff was finally liberated, over the bath and spreading like some giant amoeba, but heading for one of the blocked drains.
I really hope it works - time will tell.
I did have a plunger once, which got lent to family and never seen again, but I have another one "on order" from the borrower. Yeah, right. =)
The whole incident reminded me of a dangerous version of the Cheese-Toastie-Monster, only without the nice cooking smell.
Trouble is, they didn't magically unblock during the thaw, so I went on a scouting mission to see if there was anything in the supermarkets that might do the job.
I returned with two bottles.
One contained a sodium hypochlorite and sodium hydroxide mixture, and the other just the former.
Armed with the pair of products I migrated to the bathroom where I felt the first test should be performed.
Child-safety lids.
Don't you just love them?
You actually need a child to be able to unscrew them for you, and as I didn't have a two-year-old handy I make an assault on the bottles myself.
Plan A:
I did hint that I'm not in full health at the moment, and so the attempt was an utter failure - resulting in a metronome-like chorus of loud clicks, and with the lids not lifting a millimetre.
Plan B:
Not to be discouraged, I shut one bottle in the doorway and wrenched as hard as I could.
This resulted in a gobbet of the contents oozing out through the thread under the lid, all over my hand. Not a good thing. One should preferably keep one's corrosives under control.
Hard to rinse off when the drains are blocked, too.
Plan C:
I got a nice sharp knife and sliced off both the stubborn plastic lids in a satisfying, cheese-slice-type action and the stuff was finally liberated, over the bath and spreading like some giant amoeba, but heading for one of the blocked drains.
I really hope it works - time will tell.
I did have a plunger once, which got lent to family and never seen again, but I have another one "on order" from the borrower. Yeah, right. =)
The whole incident reminded me of a dangerous version of the Cheese-Toastie-Monster, only without the nice cooking smell.
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