Thirty Two Minutes of Waiting, Ten Minutes of Garlic Breath – Friday Fiction 9

Mandy was reminded of her acute sense of smell one Friday afternoon on her way home from the office.

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She began the long descent toward the sub-sub-sub basement level where the train platform could be found and walked about halfway down, passing by a variety of people, all of whom had one thing in common – the belief that their need to get to their destination was more important than the need of anyone else on the platform, and this need made actions otherwise unthinkable into viable possibilities.

She shook her head and remembered what she had learned in the shower that morning – rather, what she had relearned; it was after all not her first time reading the bottle of Doctor Bronner’s Magic Soap.

She hadn’t exactly memorized the bottle but she heard on her favorite interview style podcast (not to be confused with her outright favorite podcast, Jen Kirkman’s I seem Fun – The Diary of Jen Kirkman Podcast) which was Mark Maron’s WTF directly from company head David Bronner that even when his grandfather was alive he did not have the bottles memorized.

What she had relearned that morning was something along the lines of what to do when encountering someone, and it was basically to elevate them in your mind and give them the benefit of the doubt – that was her reading of it.

Her office certainly seemed better after she replaced all of the kitchen and bathroom soap with peppermint soap from the Doctor, that was for sure – for sure a tangent that she had somehow reached while thinking about the people on the platform.

It was thirty two minutes of waiting before the train came and when it did it was so packed that Mandy was standing face to face with another woman who had squeezed herself on the train – it was highly improbable to move to the left or right a millimeter, let alone to turn around.

Mandy could nearly taste what the woman had for lunch and she was pretty sure that it was eggplant with a garlic sauce with so much garlic that the other ingredients may have been just added out of pity for their rare use.

“Most eggplants eaten in the world are grown in New Jersey,” Mandy said to nobody in particular, though she was looking directly at the woman when she said it.

“Oh my goodness you can smell that on me? I am so sorry! I forgot my new toothpaste at home and I didn’t have anything to use before I left work!”

“I’ve found that a tiny drop – so small that you nearly need a toothpick to get it out, or a metal Chinese chopstick – of Doctor Bronner’s peppermint soap on a toothbrush will get your chompers sparkling and your breath divine!”

The woman smiled and said, “Sounds just a little risky… but given the alternative plus the fact that one of my coworkers swears by it makes me want to give it a try tomorrow – why not?”

Mandy left the train in higher spirits than she had entered – and had picked someone up out of their funk as well!

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3 thoughts on “Thirty Two Minutes of Waiting, Ten Minutes of Garlic Breath – Friday Fiction 9

  1. Pingback: Lessons from a Soap Bottle — All-One! | blog of gordon davidescu

  2. Pingback: Opportunity Cost and the Free Ben & Jerry’s that Costs Too Much! | blog of gordon davidescu

  3. Pingback: Lessons from an Unexpected Urinal Shower | blog of gordon davidescu

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