My neighbor set up a mobile kitchen in her backyard.
She told me she was going to experiment with original foods and recipes, and she wanted the mobile kitchen so she wouldn’t disturb her family.
With the mobile kitchen, she wouldn’t have all the heat and humidity in the house. I thought it was the smell of the disasters she created in the mobile kitchen that she wanted kept out of her house. Those smells wafted across her yard and into my house. I didn’t care about her family, but I cared about mine. When some of those smells permeated my house, I almost gagged. I wasn’t sure what types of food she was using, but they had to be rancid. I went over to her mobile kitchen one afternoon, just to ask what she was doing. She thought the aroma drew me. The aroma drew me over, but not because I liked it. My dog was sick, and my daughter told me it made her eyes water. I told her she had to either quit cooking, or she had to move the mobile kitchen. It wasn’t something we wanted to experience any longer. She told me to get out, but she told me not to take it to heart. She was the one who rented the mobile kitchen. If I wanted to pay the rent on the mobile kitchen, she would move it wherever I wanted it. Since I didn’t pay for the mobile kitchen, she asked me to kindly leave and let her get back to her food. Two days later, the mobile kitchen disappeared, and I was happy. Her husband couldn’t stand anymore of the ‘food’ she was preparing for them.