Some people should not have e-mail. My uncle L. is one of them. Every now and then, though, he sends through something enjoyable.
The New Supermarket
The new supermarket near our house has an automatic water mister to keep the produce fresh. Just before it goes on, you hear the sound of a thunderstorm and the smell of fresh rain.
When you approach the milk cases, you hear cows mooing and the scent of fresh butter fat floats by.
When you approach the egg case, you hear hens cackle and the air is filled with the pleasing aroma of eggs frying.
So far I have been too afraid to go down the toilet paper aisle.
Surely he is joking – I’m very literal-minded and tend to believe such stories – especially as our supermarket has the mister thing, which goes off with no warning, making one wish for the sound of thunder or some such.
WTF is the mister thing about? Surely it’s giving the illusion of freshness when what it’s actually doing is spreading water- and air-borne pathogens all over perfectly good food?