The first few months Sweet Joshua and I were married were quite precarious. I did not have a job for the first three months we were married, and money was quite tight with just one income. We had just moved into our very first apartment and were trying to adjust to not having a lot of money. When I had to go grocery shopping, it was a little difficult and I had to be creative with money. There was not a lot of money for splurging, so we ate a lot of Hamburger Helper, spaghetti and sloppy joes.
I still to this say cannot even see a box of Hamburger Helper without throwing up a little in my mouth.
The next few days were the HOTTEST we had had that summer. It was July and it was brutal. Because I didn't have a job, I didn't really find the need over the next three days to leave the apartment, so my tank sat in the driveway patiently. Friday approached, and my cat, Shelby, had a vet appointment. I put her in the car, and backed out of the driveway.
Driving down Crestview Avenue the smell hit me.
"My God, Shelby......did you fart?"
She just looked up at my from the floorboard of the car. I knew she was not a good car rider, so I thought she had assaulted me in the only way she would (she was a sweet sweet mild cat). Then smell got worse.
"Holy cow!! Did you SHIT in the car, Shelby?"
By the time I hit Trolley Road, I had to pull over and roll down all the windows. I got on the road and could hardly take it. I thought I would throw up (and you know how I feel about vomiting). I was convinced she had crapped in my car.
I made it to her vet's and she went in for her appointment. I left all the windows down to "air" out the car. Upon returning to the car, it was as if the smell had GAINED strength. I mean, this smell could peel paint, y'all. I didn't know what to do, so I went to my Mother's house.
RULE TO ALWAYS REMEMBER: MOM'S HOUSE IS A SAFE HOUSE AND MOM WILL ALWAYS HAVE THE ANSWER.
I arrived at her house and took Shelby inside. Mom wasn't there.
So I had my littlest sister, Erin, come out side and asked her to smell the car (I guess just to see if I was crazy or not - I had searched the thing looking for cat crap and found nothing, so I had to convince myself that I was not just smelling things).
She stuck her head in the car and I thought should would puke.
"What is the fuck is that SMELL??"
"I don't know!!! I thought it was Shelby, but she couldn't have done this!! This is pure concentrated EVIL!!" I said.
We started looking all over the car and that is when I spotted it.....
In the rear window of my car, under the various cow stuffed animals I kept up there (I had this thing about cows at one time), was a Piggly Wiggly bag. I picked up the bag and peeked inside. Inside the bag were my precious pork chops and a bag of mini marshmallows. The car had gotten so hot that it had melted the marshmallows and it now looked like I had purchased a bag of milk. The pork chops were gray and BOY DID THEY STINK!!!! We threw the bag in the neighbor's garbage can (I wouldn't even put them in my parent's can they were so tainted), and had to figure out how to deodorize the car. I must have emptied an entire bottle of perfume in the car.
Sorry Mom for emptying that expensive perfume into the cloth seats of my tank.
It was as if the rotted pork chop molecules had permeated every fiber or the fabric of my car. The smell was over powerful, but over the next couple of weeks, the smell started to dissipate (YES!! I said WEEKS......)
This story never gets old in my family. My sister, Dawn, gave me a squeaky pork chop dog toy for me to hang from my rear view mirror and the story has garnered me A LOT of ribbing.
Yet.........I am still really upset about missing out on eating those chops.