Had a service call an hour away today, except I was given the wrong address, and it was more like 1 1/2 away. There was no cell phone coverage, and I had no clue where to go because the address was some County Road that wasn’t big enough for Garmin to give a shit about it. I fortunately passed by the post office, and the helpful woman inside gave me some great directions on how to get there. Unfortunately, when I got there, I couldn’t find the house. None of them were labeled. There was a shack, a house, and two trailers. I saw a black man working on a car outside, so I stopped and asked him if he knew where the lady I was looking for lived. He said no. I got back in my car, then headed back up the dirt road for a spot where I could get cell phone coverage.
Finally, I had one bar, and I attempted to call the home office. Garbled mess. A very nice elderly black man heard me trying to talk to the office, and asked if he could help. I showed him the address, and he said “Oh, that’s just over there” (he pointed to where I just was), “it’s the trailer in between the three houses.”
Yeah. Right next door to the man who said he didn’t know where she lived. Okay, fine. Some people don’t know their neighbors’ names. It happens.
Anyway, I go back to that house, pull in, and then get out of the car. The guy working on the car looks up at me again, and I said “No worries. Just me again!” and I head up the lady’s walkway (a series of concrete blocks laid in a row) to her trailer. A nice lady pulls up at the same time and asks who I’m looking for. I tell her, and it turns out I’m looking for her daughter. She takes me up the walkway (past the gigantic ass dog whom I’m told hates strangers, but licked my hand and laid down in front of me), and when I come in the door (“Hey! The compruter man is here!”) I’m overwhelmed with the smell of piss inside.
Fortunately, this client’s laptop is in one piece, but I can’t say the same for her house. I wish I’d have been able to take pictures of it, but it’s safe to say that I’ll never complain about my living arrangements again. There was no working light (at least I couldn’t tell the difference between on and off…), and I had to use the light from the TV to illuminate my work.
The family was really sweet. The woman who lived there had three kids: two boys and a girl (who arrived later), and the two boys were playing games on their iPhones. Yes, plural. They had one each. Shithole trailer with one room, a bathroom, and a living room, all of which smelled like piss… but dammit they had iPhones. Anyway, like I said… they were sweet. They asked very thoughtful questions, even though the little 3-yr boy wouldn’t look me directly in the eye. They were impressed that I didn’t go to school to learn how to fix computers. They were fun to talk to and made me laugh a few times while I fixed the laptop. The older boy was of working age, and went outside to check on something before going to work. I finished the job without any problems, and I left.
While I was leaving, I saw the boy helping the man outside… the guy who was working on his car and didn’t know where his neighbor lived. Yeah… my ass he didn’t know her…