June 16, 2010 The smell of DEATH via 2008 Saturn Vue For the past two weeks I have been driving a mobilized pigpen. Trash on the floor, molded pennies in the cup holders (I unstuck the silver coins to pay for my Peppermint Patty—see blog from last week), dirty windows and dusty dashboard. Since I purchased my new car last August I have been relatively good about keeping it clean—I think something about the fact that I actually paid for something significant put some fire under my bum to respect the space. Clearly, this has not been the case for the past few weeks. But to get to the point of my story…
For the past week, minimum, the stench has been atrocious! I literally cannot stand the smell when I get in my car and immediately roll down the windows. I have to do this anyway, seeing as the air conditioner does not work (another testament to my laziness). But even if it was working, I would not be able to survive the sink pit without fresh air. The smell was so bad yesterday I told myself that I HAD to clean it out today. After work, I parked my car and grabbed some cleaning supplies. When I crossed over to the driver’s side back seat I reached for what I thought was a piece of trash—but stopped right before I could touch it. I cocked my head to the side and said aloud, “what the hell is that?” After closer inspection the smell hit me in the face and I realized that what I thought to be perhaps a moldy hamburger or chicken sandwich, I realized that I had a DEAD BABY BIRD under my seat!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I didn’t know whether to scream or vomit, so I did neither and walked very calmly straight into Heather’s room and said, “I have a dead bird in my car.” She jumped out of bed so quickly I stammered backward as she said, “Don’t touch it! We can’t get the bird flu. We need gloves and disinfectant!” What a good friend, to take charge of the situation on which I obviously had no handle. Picture it: vanilla scented trash bags on hands, a bowl of Ajax Orange scented anti-bacterial soapy water, and a spray bottle of kitchen/bathroom disinfectant spray. Heather was an absolute GEM! She reached into the car to grab the rotting flesh. We threw it in our Gap drawstring bag (ironically, that bag was home to a 100% Pima cotton tee with a graphic Raven print on the front…can we say foreshadowing???) We headed straight for the dumpster. It would be inappropriate to describe the smell that emanated from the bird. There are no politically correct words. Let it suffice to say that if death had a smell, my entire car died the moment we removed the bird.
I scrubbed like a mad woman who just murdered her husband and while the smell did subside, this morning I still rolled down my windows first thing. I think it is safe to say that this morning’s smell could be partially attributed to my mentally scarred mind, and part the lingering smell of bird corpse. Then my mind started racing: how long had the bird been entombed in my heat box? How in the WORLD did it get there? Was it a slow and painful death? There is no telling the amount of germs that are swimming in my car and it makes me sick to think that I am sitting in them!!! Can germs spread through evaporated flesh?? I will never know the fate of my stinky friend and, quite frankly, I did not lose sleep over it last night. What I do know is that I am going to have my car professionally scrubbed…maybe twice, just in case!!!!
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