- Mundane Ö
- Pointless Ö
- Stuff Ö
- I must share: Who knows
Something unique happened at work this morning. About 200 yards from where I’m sitting (working?) - on the raceway we affectionately refer to as ‘Yonkers Avenue’ here at the office - two trucks collided. Accidents in this part of town are about as common as adultery, what made this crash different was the hauled cargo that ended up spilling all over the roadway.
Vanilla… Psst. There’s no spoiler, I just did that for effect.
Not ice cream. Not wafers. Drums of liquid vanilla. It’s been just about 8 hours since the highway department cleaned up the mess, but the entire neighborhood still smells like vanilla. All day, people have commented on it. The guy who owns Dunwoodie Pizza up the block is happy. The local florist appears to be doing alot more business. Strangers are saying, “Hi” to one another. Most recognize the aroma as vanilla, others have commented it smells like butterscotch. To tell you the truth, had I not been privy to the cause, I would’ve sworn it smelled like warm waffles smothered in maple syrup (and I don’t even have a sweet tooth).
Since the ensuing accident, my co-workers and I can’t believe how pleasant the entire day was. It was a busy day, the weather’s beautiful (hauntingly similar to the morning of 9/11 in fact) and yet everyone - I mean everyone - is in such a great mood.
Danny DiLeo came in, picked up his paving stones and didn’t even mention the words fire, brimstone or eternal damnation. His voice didn’t even exceed the 60db mark.
Manzoor was patient and understanding for the first time in his life upon learning the shade of brick he used on the PS87 project back in the nineties is no longer manufactured.
Ronnie the shoe-maker (who tries to pass himself off as a mason) treated his Mexican day laborers with respect as they shoveled 2 cubic yards of 3/4" gravel into the back of his van.
No one screamed, yelled or bitched about the damage waiver we charge on all equipment rentals. Everyone paid their sales tax without protesting. Not one contractor uttered the words, “there’s no way that’s your best fucking price.” When I went to use the bathroom I noticed the toilets were flushed. Everyone was happy. People were telling jokes. Even the employees are getting along with one another. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was clunked over the head, kidnapped and brought to a Truth Seekers revival meeting.
My skeptical side keeps insisting something as new-age as aroma therapy has got to be about as beneficial as feng shui. The only time I’ve personally ever experienced something to the events of today was at an arboretum outside Phoenix - but that had more to do with eucalyptus and something that resembled a priapism. Nice weather or not, this place has never been as placid as it was today. Tomorrow, after the scent of vanilla completely dissipates and things get back to normal (i.e. insane) around here, I’m going to order a few 55 gallon drums of vanilla extract so we can open them up on those real hectic days. If there’s anything to this aroma therapy phenomenon, I guarantee you both Penn & Teller will be hearing about it.
