The Mall Diva and I went grocery shopping together Monday evening for our sustenance. Usually the Reverend Mother does this after first drawing up a very meticulous list; she doesn’t deviate from the list and prides herslef on getting in and out of Cub in less than an hour. The Mall Diva also created a list, which we followed, but I’m more of an impulse buyer. This explains the chocolate-flavored Cap’n Crunch cereal we (I) bought.
I’ll try just about anything once if it’s chocolate-flavored, so I poured my first portion of this breakfast confection this morning. It wasn’t bad, but as usual I can’t eat Cap’n Crunch without remembering a certain incident that happened 20 years ago. As it turns out, this incident wasn’t “about” 20 years ago — it was 20 years ago today.
I was working for an advertising and promotion agency in St. Louis Park and on that Thursday evening we managed to finish our Ad League co-ed softball game under ominous skies ahead of The Storm. I even got home before the highway flooded so I wasn’t greatly inconvenienced and none of my property was damaged. Things were a bit different at work, however.
The good news: we’d just recently landed a large account to promote Quaker Oats cereal in the institutional market. The bad news: the “product” didn’t come in cute boxes like in the grocery store, but in large plastic bags almost as big as me. Many bags of “product” had been delivered for a catalog photo-shoot and were waiting patiently in our cool, dry storeroom. A cool, dry storeroom that happened to be at the lowest corner of our building and was no longer very cool and definitely not very dry.
Picture, if you will, the image of several hundred pounds of Cap’n Crunch and other cereals swelling and bursting out of its containers and washing across the floor like a great, rising, golden wave of something that looked rather like hominy. Do you have a picture in your head? Great. Now, imagine the smell.
Fortunately I already had scheduled the day off from work, so I’m not sure how long it took others to shovel out the effluent blob of not-so-goodness. I do know that the scent lingered well into winter.