I never like to go there because the place smells like an ashtray covered in dog. I'm not sure what that means exactly but the smell of dog and the smells of cigarettes hit me like a brick.
There's that smoke smell; which I've always hated. And it's different than that yellow nicotine smell that has settled into the carpet, the upholstery, the curtains the clothes the soft surfaces and been ingrained so far down that even they can't stand it- they can't take any more and so even the countertops and the linoleum reek.
I once had delicious cheese cubes from there. The grieving guest brought up a cheese tray and I picked cubes from it; different cheeses mixed together- and delighted in the smoked flavor until I realized there was no way the grocery assembled smoked cheddar, smoked swiss, smoked jack, smoked mozzarella and smoked gouda. Only one of those had been smoked before it left the store, but they all absorbed the flavoring of that hideous room downstairs after sitting in it overnight.
But it was good. There's no telling what will taste good, honest this Earth, in this mouth, we're forbidden fruit has rotted so long between the gums and enamel, microscopic but deadly.
ReplyDeleteOh, how I miss that cheese. Impossible to replicate, without digging up the past and it's schlong cut, long ago, dead, missed opportunity.