Yesterday afternoon Cristi took the Red Line back to our apartment after spending the weekend in Wisconsin. Comparable to crash landing on the earth’s surface after a few days on the moon, her soul was having problems reacclimating to the abrasive environment. To intensify the shock, there was bad smell in the air. Did someone pee? Poop? Perhaps there’s a corpse somewhere, she wondered.
She held her nose and looked out the window—standard procedure for anyone who regularly uses the city’s public transportation system. Then something occurred to her. The smell was coming from her bag. The source wasn’t excrement at all. Quite the opposite. It was food. A block of stinky cheese she bought a fancy shop in Madison to be exact. She laughed at herself and the situation. Lesson learned? Hard to say, but certainly an important reminder that sometimes you’ve got to check yourself before you blame the filthy habits of others.