Really, Officer, It's Rotten Grapes!

A few weeks ago, I taught my final Sunday School class at my old church. To mark the occasion, I brought coffee cake and grapes. And, of course you know what everyone ate. It wasn't the grapes.

I thought, Well, these grapes will be a healthy snack at work this week. And I threw them in a Target bag full of stuff that'd been laying behind the seat of my truck.

Fast forward to today. I am driving in my truck and need something behind the seats. I reach back and root around...until my hands feel something squishy. The grapes!, I think. Crap. So, I make a move to yank the Target bag out so I cannot forget to throw away the browned and liquefied grapes. Yanking was the problem.

Apparently, I didn't have the grapes' ziploc bags ziplocked. With the yanking, grape juice flies everywhere in the cab.

That's when I notice the smell for the first time. Longtime readers of PTOIT will remember the last time I let food decompose. It stunk.

This is different. That's right: my truck smells like wine. I am dead serious. I can still smell it on my fingers--they smell like alcohol. This isn't so bad. I kind of like the smell. It's sweet like a white wine. I even considered drinking some of the fermented grape juice out of the bag...

However, the smell could be dangerous.With my luck, I'm fully expecting to be pulled over by a cop. The Intended says that when I got pulled over on Memorial Day for drinking, the cop let me go because he couldn't smell anything.

Now he'd smell it. It hit him like a brick wall when I roll down the window. And my only defense will be, "OK, so I had these grapes..."