by today’s Urban Chameleon contributor
I love my West Indian people and I love our food but you can’t bring it everywhere, especially not every day to the office.
My colleague, let’s call him Max, loves to bring his curry goat, rice and peas and fried plantains for lunch on most days. If it’s not that it’s another Caribbean curry dish of some sort, which is cool lawd knows I get down on the same grub but during work hours I’m on a toss chicken salad with a vinaigrette dressing diet.
For the very reason that every day around 3PM, when I assume that Max’s curry has attempted to digest a wretched stench invades our cubicle space. Since Max and I are the only ones who are seated in this area of the office I’m usually the only one experiencing these violent episodes of suffocation.
Every now and then someone will walk through our section at this time and notice the putrid smell and make a joke, “Phew! Who farted?” Max will try to cover this up by complaining about a trash bin that hasn’t been taken out but he can’t fool me I grew up with the same curry and I know a curry fart when I smell one.
Jesus. What to do? Do I bring HR into this?
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