Call from The Wife a few hours back.
The tenant came to pick up the last of his junk and discovered that the septic tank had spent the days since his last visit disgorging into the downstairs unit, turning it into a makeshift house diaper, if you will.
Not cottoning to the idea of squeegeeing raw sewage around with an infant on her hip she cast about for aid and was referred to Central Coast Casualty Restoration.
(company motto: When Disaster S T R I K E S!)
They're hard at work as I type, having been given permission to deploy ANTIMICROBIAL MATERIALS,which sounds impressively industrial and sort of futuristic, conjuring images of a buzzing squadron of dragonfly-sized robots deploying sterile white foam over a North Sea studded with bobbing turds.
The septic tank guys are en route.
I'm happy this wasn't discovered on a sunday.
No comments:
Post a Comment