Among too many assignments periodically accepted to forestall big bad blowing wolf at the door was Pest Control Salesman. Making a difference in customers’ lives.
Remember an old man who put on his dingy plaid trousers without first checking for fire ant nests.
It’s south Florida, he shudda known better.
Recall telling a young woman she probably shouldn’t have her boyfriend’s pit bull put down just cause of fleas. The dog probably shouldn’t live under the porch. I told her. They stayed at a Motel 6 for a whole week and we about ran out of chemical before they could move back home. Damn dog was the best of them.
One old lady had imaginary bugs. She wasn’t happy until I sold her imaginary pest control. Once a month I’d stop by, look around the place, always pristine, have a cup of lukewarm coffee, collect a check for real $75. Maybe watch a little The Young & The Restless together.
Bonuses were involved. Quotas, too. Flag ties and khaki pants. Truly frightening. – JDW
The first thing you try to do is establish rapport. We were just getting comfortable.
A sudden noise at the door and her hand covered my mouth as I was about to say, “I like your brovmphf…-”
Her other hand held the gun. That’s when I first realized she might not be the next Miss Right.
She might be dangerous, she might be all wrong for me. So, she was just my type.
‘Quick,’ she said, ‘ duck into the closet!’ Oh, now we’re getting kinky. Wasn’t using my head. By then I was, umm, hardly dressed. Sorta stark naked.
Her husband, however, was no fool. Became suspicious and after a search of the house discovered me hiding in the bedroom closet.
‘Who are you?’ he asked.
My first thought was to lie.
My second thought was to tell him, this is not what it looks like.
‘So glad you got here.’ That was the best I could do. Cause I didn’t know what else to say. Thinking – meanwhile – why doesn’t she shoot him.
‘I’m an inspector from Bug Busters,’ I blurted proudly. “I’m the exterminator.”
‘What the hell are you doing in there?’ the husband asked.
‘I’m investigating a complaint about an infestation of moths.’
‘And where the hell are your clothes?’ the husband demanded.
I looked down at myself.
‘Those little bastards! ‘
This all transpired before the woman I am currently with. Please note.
She may be a little disgusted but she is entirely forgiving. My history is not her story.
So, my challenge to you, gentle reader – there’s one, only one, untrue anecdote in this entire tale – just one – which is it?