- Joined
- Mar 8, 2011
- Messages
- 25,160
- Reaction score
- 9,010
- Location
- Iowa
- Website
- pixels.com
- Can others edit my Photos
- Photos NOT OK to edit
A couple weeks ago, I got a call from the maintenance man for a string of apartment properties I do work for. He want me to reserve Thursday, June 20th. They sent a letter to all the residents of one property that they will be 'making the rounds' doing minor repairs.
So I'm thinking it will be a easy-peasy, mundane day. Change broken/loose devices, replace burned-out lamps, checking smokes for working batteries, etc.
Well, yeah, it was. At least the first 5 out of the 6 units that had reported problems. One the sixth, everything changed.
The maint. man knocked on the door, and a teen-age girl answers. He ask for the parents, and she says they're at work. We ask to come in to fix the shopping list of issues, so she lets us in (Us, meaning me, a plumber, the maint. man and the property manager).
The first thing that hits me is the smell. Now, I don't have a keen olfactory sense. But I was almost knocked out by the stench. I've been in porta-potties that smelled better.
Inside, a total of 8 kids, the teen-age girl (I'm guessing 13) the oldest, and the youngest looked about 2. I make my rounds checking all the devices, making a mental list of material I need from the truck.
The place is a mess. The carpet is literally a toilet. Urine smell everywhere. No pets, nor any evidence I could see of any. Dirty clothes, toys, etc. The place looks like a tornado hit it.
I go out to the truck to get the stuff I need. On my way back in, the manager stops me. "We're thinking of calling CPS [Child Protective Services], what do you think?"
I deadpan: "Not my call, but if it were, I would in a heartbeat".
Turns out, the oldest kid made a phone call, and 'dad' didn't want us in the apartment (this despite notes in their rent notices as well as posted on the exit doors). Pfft: no wonder, genius... your kids live in a pig sty. Next thing I know, the cops show up.
By then, I'm done (replaced a total of 7 outlets that wouldn't hold a cord to save their live, 2 missing or broken cover plates, and a light in the bathroom). I had to pick up broken glass under a busted window to replace one outlet.
I don't know if the kids were removed, as I was done at that point and just wanted to get the he11 outta there. My eyes were watering and my throat was burning. But I was asked for my contact info by one of the officers. I just gave him a card and said, "Call me if you need me. I'm gonna go to Long John Silvers and clean up in their grease pit."
I don't know of the oldest girl was the oldest sibling or a baby-sitter, but leaving those kids alone all day in an environment like that shouldn't be allowed.
I came straight home, undressed in front of the washing machine and headed right into the shower. I emptied the water heater, and I still don't feel clean.
So I'm thinking it will be a easy-peasy, mundane day. Change broken/loose devices, replace burned-out lamps, checking smokes for working batteries, etc.
Well, yeah, it was. At least the first 5 out of the 6 units that had reported problems. One the sixth, everything changed.
The maint. man knocked on the door, and a teen-age girl answers. He ask for the parents, and she says they're at work. We ask to come in to fix the shopping list of issues, so she lets us in (Us, meaning me, a plumber, the maint. man and the property manager).
The first thing that hits me is the smell. Now, I don't have a keen olfactory sense. But I was almost knocked out by the stench. I've been in porta-potties that smelled better.
Inside, a total of 8 kids, the teen-age girl (I'm guessing 13) the oldest, and the youngest looked about 2. I make my rounds checking all the devices, making a mental list of material I need from the truck.
The place is a mess. The carpet is literally a toilet. Urine smell everywhere. No pets, nor any evidence I could see of any. Dirty clothes, toys, etc. The place looks like a tornado hit it.
I go out to the truck to get the stuff I need. On my way back in, the manager stops me. "We're thinking of calling CPS [Child Protective Services], what do you think?"
I deadpan: "Not my call, but if it were, I would in a heartbeat".
Turns out, the oldest kid made a phone call, and 'dad' didn't want us in the apartment (this despite notes in their rent notices as well as posted on the exit doors). Pfft: no wonder, genius... your kids live in a pig sty. Next thing I know, the cops show up.
By then, I'm done (replaced a total of 7 outlets that wouldn't hold a cord to save their live, 2 missing or broken cover plates, and a light in the bathroom). I had to pick up broken glass under a busted window to replace one outlet.
I don't know if the kids were removed, as I was done at that point and just wanted to get the he11 outta there. My eyes were watering and my throat was burning. But I was asked for my contact info by one of the officers. I just gave him a card and said, "Call me if you need me. I'm gonna go to Long John Silvers and clean up in their grease pit."
I don't know of the oldest girl was the oldest sibling or a baby-sitter, but leaving those kids alone all day in an environment like that shouldn't be allowed.
I came straight home, undressed in front of the washing machine and headed right into the shower. I emptied the water heater, and I still don't feel clean.