Something is rotten in Denmark. And, by Denmark I mean Sharaun’s trunk.
Yeah, that’s right – something has completely, totally, and unashamedly stunk-up the trunk of the Saturn. On Saturday morning Sharaun told me that something smelled rotten in her car. I heard this in the way that only husbands can “hear” wives – which is to say that I held a completely cogent conversation with her on the matter without really listening at all. So when I got home later in the day and climbed out of my own vehicle and smelled a horrible smell in the garage, I dug deep and recalled that, at some point that day, I’d heard something about some kind of smell somewhere. Processing, I recalled Sharaun’s comment and began sniffing around her car. Her completely closed car, I might add.
Sniff, sniff, sniff… my senses brought me to the trunk where the funk smelled strongest. I popped it and was awed. The smell greeted me with all the reception of a brick wall; something in between dead animal and sour milk. I stuck my head in and recoiled again before I could begin the hunt. I pulled items out one-by-one, looking for an obvious piece of forgotten produce long-rotted from a week-gone grocery run or some poor decomposing rodent unlucky enough to get stuck. But each time I removed an item and gave it the sniff test it passed. Soon I had an empty trunk and no culprit. I pulled up the bottom panel to peek underneath, nothing. I sniffed the upholstery in search of perhaps something spilled, nothing.
So it put it all back in and left the trunk open overnight to air-out. But man, that smell is still there… and it doesn’t seem to be dissipating at all. Poor Sharaun bought one of those tropical air freshener things to hang in the cab, and it keeps the smell at bay to some degree… but it still ain’t right.