Return to the Feces House

One of the things that can make my job interesting is not only meeting all the people I do but routinely getting inside other people's homes. From the richest to the poorest people I get to see where and how they live. My entire work area is solidly 'middle-class.' There are extremes but they are the exception rather than the rule. Sometimes these extremes are very nice; sometimes they are very bad.

A little over a year ago I made a service call to a home that was undergoing extensive renovation. I noticed a recent comment was on the work order. It read, 'House Unsanitary per Al.' I called Al before I got there and asked him what I should expect. He replied, 'Dog feces.' I knew what he meant and thanked him for the 'heads up.'

I went in and sure enough, he was right. There were a few dogs in the house that had not only pooped inside; some had obviously marked their territory, too. In these situations I am sure you can understand you just want to do what you have to and get out.

Today I made a return visit to the feces house. The new siding was on. It looked good. I rang the bell and heard the dogs barking. The woman opened the door, greeted me, and invited me to come in. The new floor looked good; the kitchen had been redone, too. I am sorry to say, one thing hadn't changed. The scent of feces.

I was there to hook up a second digital DVR for them. The woman directed me down into the basement from where the scent was permeating. There was another couple now living down there. They had a dog, too. I manuvered through the cramped quarters over to the TV. The poop room was an unfinished room adjacent to their bedroom. I tried to be as nice as I could be. I tried to focus on my job. I tried to get out of there as quickly as I could.

I have a twenty mile/half hour commute to work everyday. I live in a different Cable Company's service area. Friends often ask why I don't work for them. They are MUCH larger than my company. Their service area includes many more urban areas. I tell them that up where I work, 'I rarely have to worry about what's going to be on the other side of the door when it opens.'

Today was one day that I did.

Hope you all had a good day. 52 days until Spring?

Take care, have fun.