While the gentleman exterminator was spraying pesticides upstairs in my apartment, I was outside helping the young man from the laundry service load his van with all 16 bags of just about everything I owned. The deal was that he would keep most of my stuff in storage until I felt it was safe to have everything returned without any chance of flea contamination.
Between the fumigating and the laundering, I knew this whole thing was going to cost me a pretty penny but at this point I really didn’t care. I needed help.
Now I don’t want you to think I didn’t have the support of family and friends, I did. But I didn’t want them to come to my home and risk them bringing any fleas back to theirs. Most of my insanity stemmed from the fear that I was going to bring on the second coming of the Bubonic Plague. I figured professionals were needed as they had experience with this sort of thing…and on the off chance they did “contract” fleas from me, well they knew the risks and were getting paid for it.
One of the reasons why the laundry service was going to cost me an arm and a leg was because where I lived was outside their delivery zone…but again…I didn’t care. So saying, as I was helping the young man load the van, he looked at me and said that he really appreciated my honesty about telling him about the fleas. He said most of his clients kept silent when they had bed bugs and consequently it cost him more money to clean out his van and his laundry facilities because the proper measures hadn’t been taken. He was so impressed with my having told him the truth, that he waived the delivery fees.
For the second time that morning, Ken had competition.
