The smell of a walk-in cooler...

Now that I think about it, I can't say walk-in coolers have a particular "smell," so much as there's a specific reaction from your nose to the onslaught of frigid air-- maybe it's the smell of everything in such a cold state, the six packs, the glass, the plastic bottles-- anyone, hopefully everyone, knows what I'm talking about. Maybe in the most general terms, you could say "the experience of a walk-in cooler"? Or you could say something that evoked these particular series of impressions-- a treasure trove of chilled products, best delivered chilled, in an artificial environment sorta hostile to human life...

I found out tonight I've got a deeply buried memory that's triggered by this-- I had to reach way back in the cooler of the local grocery store to grab my quart of vanilla yogurt (a recent addiction prompted by a nurse in the ER) and what came flooding back was the summer I worked in a convenience store-- not anything about the store, particularly, but the whole lifestyle surrounding this job, a nightshift-- being nineteen in the summer, cruising aimlessly with my friends, the honey oil, the girl I knew-- the mixture of a sense of possibilities and a punishing boredom, the glaring headlights, the music wafting from out of a car... it's peculiar to cast my memory back to those days. In one sense, it seems like yesterday, but in another it seems like further than the Pleistocene...

Anyway, in case you're wondering, this has been a test to see just how different, how tolerant, this forum is of off-topic ramblings. Has this thread been locked yet? Better yet, deleted and shredded and stomped into the misty mist and the dusky dusk?