I smelled it immediately upon waking up; beef and cheese and heavy seasoning and thick grease. I smelled it in my kitchen whilst sleepily making coffee. I smelled it in the bathroom as I washed my face.
Gag. Friends, Taco Bathroom is NOT a great morning experience.
But Taco Bathroom is exactly what I wake up to roughly twice a week, whenever my neighbor decides it's time for Mexican food. Taco Bathroom happens because our ventilation mostly pulls from the apartments surrounding ours-- so when the guy next to us cooks, the smell creeps into our air.
It's not so bad while he's actually cooking, even if it is a little strange to smell Mexican food while I'm having dessert. But I really start to seethe when I come home the next day and my apartment is rife with the stinky stanky STANK that is stale beef.
Taco Bathroom is the bane of my apartment-dwelling existence. Honestly, we've had house dreams for a while now, but nothing makes me crave my own space more than Taco Bathroom.
And I have bad news for my neighbor: It's Mexican night in the Kelsey household...soo...
No comments:
Post a Comment