dead bodies
a week ago i hopped into a cab on a monday morning after a weekend of drinking and chatting up all the girls i almost got with in college, who all remained as girls i almost got with (save one. booyah). i cheerfully told the southeast asian driver my office address. the sky was clear, the sun was shining, i was looking forward to work. in a nutshell, i was feeling great.
as we barrelled down broadway i began to notice a subtle but insistent smell. i couldn't place or identify this smell but it began to gradually overpower me. my mind raced trying to think of what it was. the smell was sickeningly sweet, but at the same time bore the unmistakable mark of rot, decay, and pestilence.
the driver turned onto 100th st and waited to enter the park. i was feeling a little uncomfortable, so i cracked the window. it didn't help. as the car rushed down the park drive i felt queasier and queasier. i wanted to ask the driver if he could smell that rotten rotten stench, but i was afraid that if i spoke i'd vomit, and taxi drivers aren't thrilled when you blow chunks in the backseat. trust me on that one.
i writhed and hyperventilated in the backseat, surrounded by the smell of tropical corpses and gasping at the sunny dusty air of the street. i felt a wave of sympathy for all those poor foreign bastards languishing in hot hot indonesian jails for decades for getting caught with a gram or two of heroin in their surfboard bag. when the cab pulled up at the office, i hopped out immediately and took a second to gather myself. i gave the driver a fat tip and strolled into the office feeling much better.
later i told one of my awesome coworkers about my experience with that smell and he said "what, like a durian?"
motherfucking durians.
