Deep, Dark and Fruity With The Slightest Hint of Roadkill
I worked for a large natural retailer for about ten years and I had the BEST job within that company. It was so amazing! I was in charge of the beer, wine, coffee, cheese, chocolate and olive department. It was easy to get excited about going to work when wine and cheese tasting started at 7am and moved through the afternoon.
I placed wine orders on Tuesdays and the wine representative from the largest company I worked with would come in on Tuesdays, sometimes bringing twenty or so samples. His name was Chris. This was a great thing to get paid to do, except for one thing. Our "tasting room" was basically the place where we did the dishes. It was small and hot and steamy and Chris had breath that smelled like three day old road kill on a hot street in July. It was terrible. It was so bad, I was thinking that he could not possibly taste the wine. How could he detect the subtle nuances of vanilla that French oak imparted into the wines? How could he detect the creaminess of the malolactic fermentation on a California chardonnay with all of the bacteria in his mouth? I could barely stand to be in the hot, steamy tasting room with him and would often delegate the job to one of my employees. It was sad to give up free wine.
I had to do something for Chris. I debated back and forth about what to say and how to say it. I knew it was my responsibility to say something given my family history in dentistry and with the additional knowledge that provided me.
Ultimately, I told him he was my friend and I cared about him and asked him if anyone had ever told him he had bad breath before. To my surprise he said, "Yes, all the time."
"Does that concern you?" I asked.
"Not really," he said. "I have always had bad breath."
"Did you know that it is caused from bacteria?" I asked.
"No," he said.
"Yes," I said. "The same types of bacteria that are found in carcasses and feces. And all of that bacteria can complicate and cause systemic diseases such as diabetes and can increase your chances of a heart attack."
"Wow," he said. "I didn't know."
"I'm only telling you because I care about you. Especially since your profession involves interpersonal relationships with people who have a highly trained sense of smell," I said.
I left the company shortly thereafter. Reports from my old team were that Chris's breath did not improve that much. But at least I did my part to help stop the stink. It was not an easy thing to do, but I feel better that I did it.