Celery

My former co-worker Kristin, believe it or not, disliked the smell of celery. Who knew celery had a smell?! Whenever Ron ate celery in his office down the hall and then came to chat with her, she could smell it on him! An even bigger "who knew"... who knew the smell could linger and stick to you. "I'm wearing au de celery today." We were always astonished when she would accuse him of having just eaten it, and she was always right.

One year, just before April Fool's Day, I'd been driving through Conn, and stopped at Rein's Deli. They had Dr. Brown's soda, in every flavor Dr. Brown makes, I guess. One flavor was celery. As I could not purchase just 1 can, I bought a 6 pack. On April Fool's Day, when Kristin was away at a meeting, I snuck out the can I had brought to work, popped the top and set it beside her pc, hiding it behind the paper stand used for holding papers while you type. (Does that thing have a name?) It was just poking out. You couldn't see it right away, but if you looked for it, you could see the green can. When Kristin returned from her meeting, her nose immediately began to twitch.

"Mish-SHELL!"

How did she know I was the culprit. Why not Ron? He's the big celery consumer!

Celery. I don't get it. When I eat it, I heap the condiment, be it peanutbutter, ranch dip, nacho cheese, whatever, upon it. To me, there is no taste, let alone smell. So why then would one make a celery flavored soda, or better yet, drink one? Why not make a "Door-nob flavored soda?" It seemed to me like seltzered water with a vague taste that could not be identified, unless your name is Kristin and you have a Super Sniffer.

I have the new tag line for the celery marketing campaign: "Celery. It just is."