I had always heard that sour milk down the front air intake of a car is nearly impossible to remove and greatly depreciates the resale value of a car.
Since January I have had a few people come and go from my list.
The man downstairs insists on having one cigarette a night, blowing the smoke directly out the window straight into my window fan while I sleep or enjoy the television. I could slowly pour the milk out of my window, over the lip, and down the brick right into his apartment. But the smell will also come back to haunt me with each blow of the warm breeze.
The person who has abandoned their car in two of my favorite parking spaces at a diagonal letting the tiers decays over the hot yellow parking line on the blacktop. But this car is already in bad shape. The owner may never return.
A random person who works for my cable company. The service is poor and the prices outrageous. If it were not for my addiction I would have ended this relationship years ago. But as I watch Elizabethtown for the second time tonight, I have to appreciate the lacks nature of their pay-per-view policy on viewing. Good movie, both times.
That guy at work whom I despise. Well the truth is I have given this one serious consideration. However he is never around, coming in after me and leaving before me, I don’t get the opportunity.
So when I got home from work tonight, never having executed my dastardly plans of evilness, I opened the door to my refrigerator and remembered another lesson. This one was in science class and involved acids and bases. We often think an acid of eating through things, however a base, like milk, can be just as or even more potent given time. And yes, there was spoiled milk from January over the bottom of my fridge. And oh no, I will never hold on to my anger that long again.