No one appreciates what I do

Matt, Rachel and I were walking to lunch.

"Holy sh*t!! What is that...."

"SMELL????"

"Oh my gah. Are there DEAD PEOPLE in there or something?"

We began staggering around, clutching our noses in a dramatic fashion.

We had walked by a parked tractor-trailer truck that a horrible rotten fish smell was blowing up from in giant green clouds. Well, not literally, but still.


"Something is seriously wrong with that," I said. "Who leaves a trailer full of rotten fish?"

When we came back from lunch, the reeking thing was still there, and though we cut across the parking lot and walked far away, it the stinky stank still smashed into us.

"I'm gonna call the police and tell them," I said.

So a couple hours later, I made the call.

"I'm over on Reese Road and there is this truck that is full of rotting fish," I said.

"Is it parked illegally?" the dispatcher asked.

"Um, no," I said.

"Do you think for some reason that it is stolen?" she said.

"Ah, no, but it seems weird," I said. "It really stinks."

"So you are reporting what, exactly?" she asked.

This is when I saw the flaw in my theory and saw this call through the dispatcher's eyes. I'm sure her flashing "NUTSO" sign was blinking like mad.

"Uh, um, I guess I know that parking a stinky truck isn't exactly illegal," I said, "But I think maybe it is abandoned or something. Can you just send someone to check it out?"

"Right. Ok," she said patiently, with the tone of someone who is going to turn around to her co-worker right after this call is over and relay this dumbass conversation word for word. "If someone is in the area, I will have them stop and take a look."

Then she took my name and phone number. No one came to get me and take me away, so I guess that's something.