When Jessica Simpson mused on TV whether the contents of the can she eating out of was chicken or tunafish, because it was called Chicken of the Sea ... America collectively shook their heads.
Like so
A couple of weeks ago I was requested to box down foods. As I whipped past one the CDS girls' station that was next to the Chicken of the Sea pallets, she held me up. She asked if I smelled the funk in the steel below the tunafish. As a matter of fact, I did. I advised management which they assured me they would address it.
[Fast forward two weeks]
Yesterday I was once again asked to box down foods. I tore past the CDS lady of the day, on the end cap of 103, right next to the Chicken of the Sea tunafish. This time she didn't even haveta ask. The pungent smell was still there. In fact, it was worse! In absolute frustration, I grumbled I'd return with a pallet jack. By the time I almost my walk, I encountered my supervisor traveling toward me with the pallet jack in tow.
I returned to aisle #103 and discovered our maintenance guy, Michael Z, on scene as well investigating. We started moving pallets to gain access to the steel. The CDS lady asked out of curiosity if it was a dead critter that had died. I casually answered, probably not. After some intense searching, we located the source of the smell.
A forklift damaged can of Chicken of the Sea.
It had gone nuclear weeks ago! Sweet Jesus it smelled rank. Cue all the naughty jokes about smell here. We all took cation to properly clean it up. And we did.
Needless to say, the three of us will not be eating tunafish anytime soon...
#whatsthatsmell #funkTHATtuna
'los; out
Like so
A couple of weeks ago I was requested to box down foods. As I whipped past one the CDS girls' station that was next to the Chicken of the Sea pallets, she held me up. She asked if I smelled the funk in the steel below the tunafish. As a matter of fact, I did. I advised management which they assured me they would address it.
[Fast forward two weeks]
Yesterday I was once again asked to box down foods. I tore past the CDS lady of the day, on the end cap of 103, right next to the Chicken of the Sea tunafish. This time she didn't even haveta ask. The pungent smell was still there. In fact, it was worse! In absolute frustration, I grumbled I'd return with a pallet jack. By the time I almost my walk, I encountered my supervisor traveling toward me with the pallet jack in tow.
I returned to aisle #103 and discovered our maintenance guy, Michael Z, on scene as well investigating. We started moving pallets to gain access to the steel. The CDS lady asked out of curiosity if it was a dead critter that had died. I casually answered, probably not. After some intense searching, we located the source of the smell.
A forklift damaged can of Chicken of the Sea.
It had gone nuclear weeks ago! Sweet Jesus it smelled rank. Cue all the naughty jokes about smell here. We all took cation to properly clean it up. And we did.
Needless to say, the three of us will not be eating tunafish anytime soon...
#whatsthatsmell #funkTHATtuna
'los; out
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