If You Smell Something, Say Something

In New York City, there have been campaign ads of a particular slogan placed all around the city. It’s on billboards on mass transit buses, trains and subway stations throughout the five boroughs. The ads display an anonymous bag left unattended on the street, platform or anywhere where it could be dangerous to the public. The implication of the message is that there could potentially be a (shhhh) b-o-m-b in the bag. New Yorker’s be patient with me, for everyone else, the message reads: “If you see something, say something.” The message is clear, straight to the point and is also rather catchy. If something looks suspicious, alert the authorities; don’t just ignore it or remain silent.

Recently I’ve experienced a phenomenon for which there is no protocol. There are no commercials, ads or catchy slogans for what I’ve encountered, although I wish there were. What I have experienced is related to a bomb, but closer to chemical warfare of the offensive nature. I also don’t think it’s exclusive to New York City either…

I work in corporate America at a rather large company that takes up many floors in a huge office building, with many offices and cubicles. Obviously working at a company of that magnitude (where we are dressed in business casual garb), there is a definite sense of protocol and procedure. As with any large company with many moving parts, there is always plenty of etiquette, and procedural red tape that one has to navigate through to do his/her job effectively. In our office, we are equipped with a fanny pack for emergencies and have a quarterly fire drill walk-through with New York City’s Bravest. The fanny pack is a mini survivors kit containing a flashlight, safety goggles, a whistle, and a first aid kit. We are well prepared for any type of immediate disaster…well almost any disaster.

Photo: star5112

While plugging away at my desk with about an hour and a half before quitting time, I was jolted out of the momentum of my work flow by something. My nose was sucker punched with the stench of something that smelled like, like, the rear end of a farm animal. Naturally my head immediately went on a swivel turning left and right. My eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flared, and my nose and lips retracted in horror. I was stunned, surprised, disgusted and irritated. As I looked around to find the source of the foul odor, I noticed that the other three female coworkers in my quad were typing away furiously at their computers as if nothing happened. That just annoyed me even more…”What the hell is that smell? Does anybody smell that,” I exclaimed. Now before I paint myself as the resident crazy person for speaking up, I will ask the important question: What is the correct protocol for that situation? This is a corporate office where we share open space with each other. Secondly, just the day before at approximately the same time, flatulence had previously reared its smelly head. The first time, I let it go (not let it rip) and grumbled to myself as I proceeded to take a long scenic stroll around the office. Accidents happen, and let’s face it, it could happen to the best of us. I vowed to myself to speak up if that ever happened again, and “blow” and behold it did…

I’ll ask the question again; What is the protocol for that situation? For two days in a row someone was comfortable enough to let everyone within the blast radius know what they shouldn’t have eaten for lunch. It was only Wednesday so I had two more days to go in the work week, and I didn’t know if I could take the smell for two more days. Suddenly I had an e-whiffany (I digress), and these different scenarios played out in my head…Why do we stay silent when we are in a crowded elevator when someone tries to slip one by us? What if someone exclaimed, “What the hell is that smell? Does anybody smell that?” Does that person look and sound like a crazy person? Or what if someone were on a crowded train and caught by surprise by a mal odor which is deeply offensive, but the person that the odor is coming from was gorgeous? What do we say then? Lastly, what if someone were lucky enough to have face time with someone above their station say like the President of the United States. Would, that elongated syllable version of “Missss-ter. Pres-i-dent” belted by Marylin Monroe, be replaced by a nasally singular “ugh, um Mr. President” (gasp, excuse me)?

Back in my reality of my cubicle, half jokingly I can’t help thinking of putting in a request to H.R. about adding gas masks to our fanny packs. It’s a tough economy out there, so if this is going to be my reality (which currently stinks), I’ve got to take some precautionary measures. If my production goes down and my boss wants to know why, should I really be truthful about my long leisurely strolls about the office? I definitely can’t go to HR to complain at least not with a straight face, so what are my options? I have an idea of who it is, but seriously, how could I prove it? I don’t think a carbon monoxide detector could detect the odor, but I wish I could say the same for my nose. Does speaking up in the office make me the guy labeled “most likely to go postal”? Unfortunately, I don’t have any real solutions, and I’m sure there are people out there with worse problems, but I have to go back to work tomorrow. I am open for suggestions, so I’ll ask you, what is the correct protocol for that?