kherrmann3
Well-Known Member
I don't feel good today. I've been napping on and off all afternoon, and I feel like I have the flu. Will comes home, tries making bread, fails, needs to go to the store for some key ingredients. He opens the door into the apartment complex hallway and leaves. I was in the kitchen, trying to figure out what that God-awful smell is. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was nasty. It brought a tear to my eye.
About ten seconds later, Will comes back into the apartment and says, "You have to come out here and smell this!" I really don't want to. When Will says that something needs to be smelled, nine times out of ten it is going to make me dry-heave. I walk out in the hallway, it stinks. He makes me walk down the hall to where my neighbor's door is, and I couldn't even breathe. I was on the verge of puking. Great.
I go downstairs to tell the apartment manager, who was sympathetic, but really doesn't want to deal with my neighbor. She's easily offended by what you say. She said she will tell her anyway. She thinks it's uncleaned cat litter box and full garbage bag smell. I don't think so. It's far nastier than that. There is no ammonia smell present in the hallway.
I'll put it like this: It smells like the most rotten, nasty, unholy, spoiled sandwich that you have ever smelled. I mean, not only would the bread be black and green, but the center of the sandwich probably has its own civilization going. Think of the sandwich (or leftovers, for that matter) that was left in a Tupperware container in the back of the fridge for a month or so (lost behind the gallon of milk or soda bottles?). Then when you open the container, not only is it fuzzy, but is accompanied by one of the worst smells ever.
Why do I keep having problems with stinky items and/or people? Ugh.
I ran down the hall while spraying Febreeze. I hope that does something, because the stink was creeping under our apartment door. Bleah!
About ten seconds later, Will comes back into the apartment and says, "You have to come out here and smell this!" I really don't want to. When Will says that something needs to be smelled, nine times out of ten it is going to make me dry-heave. I walk out in the hallway, it stinks. He makes me walk down the hall to where my neighbor's door is, and I couldn't even breathe. I was on the verge of puking. Great.
I go downstairs to tell the apartment manager, who was sympathetic, but really doesn't want to deal with my neighbor. She's easily offended by what you say. She said she will tell her anyway. She thinks it's uncleaned cat litter box and full garbage bag smell. I don't think so. It's far nastier than that. There is no ammonia smell present in the hallway.
I'll put it like this: It smells like the most rotten, nasty, unholy, spoiled sandwich that you have ever smelled. I mean, not only would the bread be black and green, but the center of the sandwich probably has its own civilization going. Think of the sandwich (or leftovers, for that matter) that was left in a Tupperware container in the back of the fridge for a month or so (lost behind the gallon of milk or soda bottles?). Then when you open the container, not only is it fuzzy, but is accompanied by one of the worst smells ever.
Why do I keep having problems with stinky items and/or people? Ugh.
I ran down the hall while spraying Febreeze. I hope that does something, because the stink was creeping under our apartment door. Bleah!
We never found out who had it, but our roommate went out in the hallway and sniffed up and down. Still no luck. 
