How A Dead Rat Trapped Us!
Story of survival with self-quarantine and driveway camping
“I don’t have a coverall to go into the crawl space,” said the technician.
He said that with a straight face too. I was watching him closely.
You may not think much of it, except, he was the one the extermination company, let’s call X, sent to deal with precisely our situation. A stinky one at that.
I mean it literally. The stink in the air was unmistakable. However, it was building for a few days and it took my wife and me a couple of days to make sure it was reason enough to call X.
We put through the call on a Friday. Big mistake. Extermination needs are supposed to arise just on weekdays, during working hours. How dare we hope for prompt service when all the overworked technicians were more than ready to throw in the towel on the work week and were dreaming of a cold beer to ring in the weekend!
We got graciously pencilled in for a visit by the gentleman who stood in front of us. Not on the Friday when we called, but on Saturday, in the afternoon. In the meantime, the stink was getting meaner.
The Battle
At the point when the technician declared his inability to visit our crawl space, we got into a staring…
