Monday, February 26, 2007

Bug Me Not

My building got a new “exterminator” a few months ago. It’s too bad, I really liked the previous guy a lot. He was slightly sexist in that macho South American way, but incredibly sweet and funny nonetheless.

Then all of a sudden we got some seven foot, skinny former b-ball player. Due to him, I’m beginning to believe we need an ex-athlete support fund, because they’re not suited for real jobs.

This guy thinks he is the only person on the planet with the license to kill roaches. He tells me every time I see him that Raid attracts roaches. Sure, they do, smart guy. Just like WWII troops ran toward mustard gas, and Jews, gays, and Gypsies just flocked to the scent of Zyklon B. In fact, Native Americans are testing Eau de Smallpox as an aphrodisiac! Can you believe this crap?

In honor of due diligence, I called Orkin and asked them if their company believed this little tale. They didn’t. I called SC Johnson Wax, maker of Raid, and asked them if the product had ever been known to attract roaches. It hadn’t.

Yet BugHunter here keeps telling me not to spray the ones I see. I then asked him directly, “So, what do you think I should do about the ones I see running around, offer them a beer and some Cheeto crumbs? Shall I fly to Texas to purchase some pointy-toed boots?” He took my sarcasm badly, no surprises there.

Interestingly enough, since Mr. RoachMaster took the job, there have been more bugs around than ever before. Amazing, now who should I believe, some thin-skinned guy who’s doing a crappy job, or my own eyes?

According to him, I should believe him, of course. This, my friends, is the problem with having a fully open mind. Anyone at all will try to put stupid shit in it.

Such as the tables set up in the BART stations advertising “Free Stress Test”. Firstly, testing people for stress while commuting is like fishing in an aquarium doped with cyanide. Secondly, the product they’re selling (of course they’re selling something, duh) is Dianetics.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate all religions, but a religion started on a bet between drunken science fiction writers? That’s even less believable than your usual prophet profits. The last time someone tried to sell me L.Ron, I said quite truthfully, “I’m aware of his work as a sci fi writer and if his religion is likewise as poorly written, I’ll gladly give it a pass.” Now that I think about it, they took that badly, too.

I did tell Mr. Bugaboo that Johnson and Orkin disagreed with him and he replied “I don’t work for them.” I pointedly did not say, “And I know why.” He then continued, “I’ve been doing this for forty years” to which I did reply, “Then why do we still have cockroaches?”

I then pointed out that if I do as he asks, I will have more cockroaches, thus keeping him in work. “If you actually succeeded in killing them all, you wouldn’t have a job, would you?”

He mumbled a few things that I didn’t bother listening to, and then I went back to my video game and let him show himself out. I don’t think he likes me much. The feeling is heartily mutual.