|
|
1:49 p.m. - 2004-01-31 I just watched a great documentary about the national spelling bee and was introduced to more words that I have never heard before than the whole rest of my life combined. These little fucking kids could spell, yo! So. I'm sure most of you have heard tell of the fabled "crazy cat woman". You know, the ones that pop up in the news every now and then because they have one hundred cats, or die and leave their house to their beloved felines because they had lost interest in human interaction over the years? Well sir, I have, through the adventure that is window installation, come in contact with the abode of just such an entity. Monday of this past week, you see, I get my paperwork for the job I am to do that day. On the paperwork is a crudely drawn picture of a cat saying, by indication of cartoon voice bubble, "meow". I realize that this is the site-techs way of letting me know that there is a cat issue with this job, most probably entailing being certain not to let an indoor cat escape to the outdoors durring my work so as not to distress the customer. Not that day. Nothing so simple. As I pull up to the job I am greeted by a young woman who is sitting in her truck in the driveway of the address. She introduces herself as a freind of the owner who is there to let me in since the owner has gone to work. She asks me if I know about the dogs. No I do not. Well, there are four dogs, three of which are "over friendly" and of those three, one is a great dane who likely outwieghs me by ten or twenty pounds. The third, it seems, is over un-friendly and will kill either myself, my helper, or any of the other three dogs should we unleash it from the fenced in side of the yard, which incidently is the location of about half of the work I have been hired to do. Also, am I aware of the smell inside, she wants to know. Because whatever they told me about the smell probably will not do it justice. It is so bad that she decided to wait for me out in the driveway rather than sit indoors on a cold, cold morning. I've endured odor before I assured her. Eyebrows raised in response. Also, there is furniture to move, she allows. No problem, we can slide a table out of the way, or shove a couch over. We go inside and... Now, those of you who read my good friend Booga have heard of a problem that cats get where they need to have their anal glands "expressed" in order to drain an extremely pungent mucus from their rear. When it goes unchecked the fluid seeps out of the ass-piece of the cat and smells like death himself has passed away and his cadaver is rotting inside a huge wheel of moldy cheese. Bean's own cat, Kitty Continental, has been afflicted with the malady on ocassion so I have been in contact with the scent. All I can say is I that I wish I had good ol Kitty Continent with me that morning so I could hold her little sphincter right under my nose to mask the smell that was eminating from that house. FUCK! Stick your head in a litter box that is well overdue changing. Inhale deeply. Now times that litter box by the square footage of a two bedroom home and you'll have it. The place absolutly reeked. It made me gag. I walked back out. And after a good ten minutes of airing myself out, I smelled like cat piss amonia. On my brief visit to the inside of the place, I was able to see what she meant by "funiture may need to be moved". Observe  And further more,  Anyway I refused to do the job until the furniture was moved out, and am charging an extra $100 for myself and my helper as well as making the company provide us with respirators. The end.
|