#154 – Free Living

Thanks to my conversation with a client today, I think a mystery has been solved. Our quarterly pest control took place yesterday, and a new guy performed the service. When I asked him where our regular exterminator was, he simply told me he’d be our company representative from now on. I had nothing against the fellow, but I’m comfortable with Wendell and I want him back. Yet when I called the company to make my request, a woman ambiguously informed me that Wendell would no longer service our home.

To say the least, this turn of events puzzled me. I’d last spoken to Wendell a week ago, when he’d scheduled our inspection without indicating a reassignment of his duties. I’d given him another business referral then, and he’d expressed his gratitude — after I assured him that the new customer wasn’t involved in child pornography, like the last one. To further ease his mind, I added that I’d actually met this client and her kids, and they all seemed perfectly normal.

Wendell’s new customer, Carol, is a divorcee with two daughters and a son. Carol had brought them along on her lone visit to my office. And unlike the situation with “Mr. Kiddie Porn,” I’d learned the exact nature of her employment: dispatching for a satellite television provider. 

Carol had met with me a few days after Wendell’s inadvertent brush with law enforcement. In conversation, she happened to mention her need for a new exterminator. I recommended Wendell and told her I’d have him contact her. As I learned today, Wendell arrived Wednesday morning for quarterly pest control. He didn’t stick around though.

In a phone call this morning, Carol explained that she’d opened the front door for Wendell clad only in her bathrobe — which she dropped to the floor after escorting him to the kitchen. There, she attempted to introduce him to her children: her naked twelve, ten, and eight-year-old children. Wendell’s jaw dropped at the sight of Carol in the au natural; but that was nothing compared to his reaction on spotting the trio of pre-pubescent figures. His face turned ashen, and he fled from the premises without uttering a word.

After finishing the tale, Carol asked: “Richard, I don’t get it. Didn’t you tell him the kids and I are nudists?”

As a matter of fact I didn’t, because I hadn’t known. Carol had never revealed that particular tidbit, and she and her kids had been fully clothed the only time I’d seen them.

Without a heads up on the nudist angle, Wendell must’ve received a mighty shock at the sight of the woman and her kids. I can imagine the unpleasant thoughts running through his mind at that moment, especially on the heals of the kiddie porn snafu. Had I been in his shoes, I’m sure I too would no longer wish to service the home of the sociopath who’d referred this customer.

 
 
 
Best accompanied with pajamas … when the exterminator arrives.

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