Skunked in Reed City
“Losing the game without scoring a single point. A source of abject humiliation and the object of taunts and derision by the winning team.” - Euchre Online
Skunked — merriam-webster.com/dictionary
1 a : defeat b : to prevent entirely from scoring or succeeding : shut out
2: to fail to pay; also cheat
Examples of SKUNK
1. We ended up skunking them, as our goalie was able to prevent the other team from scoring a single goal.
We got skunked.
The office of the Osceola Edition on West Upton got skunked last week — not in the dictionary sense but rather in the truest sense of the word.
Arriving at work Wednesday morning, I found that despite a raging snowstorm and blustery winds every door and window in our office building were cast wide open.
Rather confused, I walked toward the front door. One of the ladies popped out and suggested I take my clothes off and leave them in the car. I thought that a bit odd ... even for our office! She then suggested I at least leave my hat in the car.
It was then I got the first whiff of skunk.
I knew we had skunks in the area. There seems to be quite a few in Reed City of late.
One, (or more, who knows?), lived under one of the buildings along our block on West Upton.
Lived. Past tense.
While working in Lake County last Tuesday, this specific skunk was trapped and sent on his/her way to meet it’s Maker.
But not before letting loose in the most skunkly manner possible.
Everything we had in the office and surrounding area was affected. Apparently, the scent got sucked into the office through the heating and cooling system. Everything that was covered in any kind of fabric was scented. The old newspaper archive was scented.
The clothes we were wearing in the office for a couple hours while trying to do something about the situation were scented.
It was tough. We couldn’t get shuck of the smell that basically permeated ... everything.
The ladies got headaches. So ... we went home early in hopes things would calm down.
Arriving home, my Dearly Beloved was excited to see me strolling up the walk so early.
Excited ... for a few, initial, inaugural seconds.
Then, she let loose with a resounding “What the heck??!!??”
This time, the clothes did get left outside.
The next day we arrived back at work to begin more intense clean-up operations.
This largely involved the burning of copious amounts of incense — Nag Champa. The place started smelling less a newspaper office, and more a headshop.
Then we graduated to scented candles — Sandlewood.
After spreading a generous layer of the flower scented carpet dusting powder, (left overnight), and spraying everything, EVERYTHING with ocean scent Febreze, we settled in for a day’s work.
Anyone coming in the office now figured they were visiting a Nevada bordello — with gentle undertones of skunk.
A heady work atmosphere.
With air filters going strong; bleach sprayed on basement floors and walls; special smell remover sprayed on outside walls and siding; furnace filters changed and removed; and carpet dust vacuumed and vacuumed again; things started getting better.
Not much, but better.
It’s been a tough week in the Osceola Edition office.
We got skunked.
Problem is, despite the fact that almost everyone we turned to for help said there seemed to be an invasion of the little critters into the city, nobody seemed to know quite what to do about ‘em.
When asked for help with our skunk issue, the municipality basically said it was simply not their problem.
If, as we’ve been told since our own “incident,” there are garages and out-buildings around town with numerous skunks living in great comfort; and considering they seem to have a pretty good food supply out of local garbage cans; it would seem this is more than just a passing problem.
I suspect that if the skunk problem involved more than just the smell issue, if there was a problem with rabies for example, there would be certainly be a response.
If this was an invasion of rats, I suppose there’d be some reaction.
Well, we’re still in business — although people visiting the office still crinkle up their noses a bit when they first come indoors.
I hope nobody else gets skunked in Reed City.
My guess, however, is that unless something can be done in an organized manner, we won’t be the last.