Vignettes Part II
And then there was the guy who came in and asked if we had a bin handy. My co-worker pointed him to where the little wire bin with the little garbage bag sat on the ground. He wandered over, picked up the bin and promptly vomited into it. After a minute he wiped his mouth, spat and came back and attempted to continue on as if nothing had ever happened.
And then there was the guy who walked in and placed his hand on the counter. I recoiled as I noticed something leaping from his skin and onto the counter. I moved back and asked him to please remove his hand from the counter, he looked at me, looked down and said, "Oh yeah, lice. Sorry, forgot." The Windex and Pine-O-Cleen got a good work out that day.
And then there was the guy who lived in a house so filthy that when it was inspected one of the people who went out there became sick. So sick in fact that the local quack was stumped, so he sent them to another doctor. That one was stumped as well, the person was getting sicker and sicker, so they sent them to the hospital. No dice there, but they got sicker, lost weight and generally felt worse than crap. After a while they discovered that the person had contracted some form of a flesh eating virus. It nearly killed them. They had to take nearly a year off work and I've seen photos of the person before it happened and I've worked with them since. They're not the same person. You'd see the photos and look at the person and wonder who the devil it is. Ther person now looks like they could be their own parent, such was the aging process and the toll the illness took. Some people have a lot to answer for and yes, we demolished the house. Amazingly enough the person who lived in the house is demanding that we give them a new one.
And then there was the guy who insisted we give him a house. After explaining that we actually need him to register he was stumped. "Why?" was the question. "Because we can't help you if we don't know who you are and what you need," was my reply. He mulled that information over and said, "Forget about it. it's clearly too hard and you don't want to help." Hey - we'd help him fill the form out if he wanted to.
And then there was the time when an old chum walked up to the counter and asked me about assistance. We chatted for a bit about old pals and old times and then got down to business. I explained what we could do and booked him in. Then I asked for his ID.
CUST: "Why? You know who I am."
ME: "Yes, but no-one else does."
CUST: "Ya know, I didn't think of that." Clearly not. Never assume that because one person knows you, the world automatically does also.
And then there was the girl who came in for assistance and wouldn't leave. She had all kinds of things 'just happen' to her, not the least was a claim that her neighbor had made unwanted sexual advances to her. We did what we could but to no avail. We pleaded with her to file a police report so we could do more. No dice. So she made a call and went off. Later we discovered that the person she went with was the neighbor, whom she later moved in with. Odd? Not when you consider her line of work. Let's just say that he was getting freebies.
And then there was the guy who comes in every week to insist that public housing is just another way of the government monitoring people. He rants and raves with the wildest conspiracy theories for about twenty minutes and then asks about his application and wonders out loud why he hasn't got a house yet.
And then there was this encounter:
CUST: "So I've been approved for X amount?"
ME: "Yes."
CUST: "Cool." Customer then makes a phone call to a landlord. "Hey, I'd like to move into the flat you've got advertised. Can you call me back? Here's my number," says a number of a mobile phone, "When can I move in? Eh? What? Well f*ck you. Just give me the f*cking place. Who f*cking cares how old I am, why do you want to know that sh*t for? No, I don't have references. Sure, sure, hey, call me back you c*nt or I'll come and find you." He then turned to me and said, "I think that went well. I think I'm in with a chance there." I couldn't help but think, only if you called the city watch-house.
And then there was the guy who asked if he could borrow the local paper. He'd come in and hadn't got what he wanted and was a bit angry, but was looking like he was calming down. Wanting to diffuse a situation I thought why not. "Sure," I said, "they're free and they drop them off to us, so help yourself." He picked one up, read it a bit and rolled it up. Management came out, the next round got underway and things got nasty. Harsh words were exchanged. He then took the paper and yelled, "Here!!! You can have this back you f*cking c*nt!!!" and threw it at my head. Silly bugger. I didn't move and yet he still missed me a good foot and a half. Mind you had I moved he'd have gotten me, so I read the paper right.
And then there was the guy who walked in and placed his hand on the counter. I recoiled as I noticed something leaping from his skin and onto the counter. I moved back and asked him to please remove his hand from the counter, he looked at me, looked down and said, "Oh yeah, lice. Sorry, forgot." The Windex and Pine-O-Cleen got a good work out that day.
And then there was the guy who lived in a house so filthy that when it was inspected one of the people who went out there became sick. So sick in fact that the local quack was stumped, so he sent them to another doctor. That one was stumped as well, the person was getting sicker and sicker, so they sent them to the hospital. No dice there, but they got sicker, lost weight and generally felt worse than crap. After a while they discovered that the person had contracted some form of a flesh eating virus. It nearly killed them. They had to take nearly a year off work and I've seen photos of the person before it happened and I've worked with them since. They're not the same person. You'd see the photos and look at the person and wonder who the devil it is. Ther person now looks like they could be their own parent, such was the aging process and the toll the illness took. Some people have a lot to answer for and yes, we demolished the house. Amazingly enough the person who lived in the house is demanding that we give them a new one.
And then there was the guy who insisted we give him a house. After explaining that we actually need him to register he was stumped. "Why?" was the question. "Because we can't help you if we don't know who you are and what you need," was my reply. He mulled that information over and said, "Forget about it. it's clearly too hard and you don't want to help." Hey - we'd help him fill the form out if he wanted to.
And then there was the time when an old chum walked up to the counter and asked me about assistance. We chatted for a bit about old pals and old times and then got down to business. I explained what we could do and booked him in. Then I asked for his ID.
CUST: "Why? You know who I am."
ME: "Yes, but no-one else does."
CUST: "Ya know, I didn't think of that." Clearly not. Never assume that because one person knows you, the world automatically does also.
And then there was the girl who came in for assistance and wouldn't leave. She had all kinds of things 'just happen' to her, not the least was a claim that her neighbor had made unwanted sexual advances to her. We did what we could but to no avail. We pleaded with her to file a police report so we could do more. No dice. So she made a call and went off. Later we discovered that the person she went with was the neighbor, whom she later moved in with. Odd? Not when you consider her line of work. Let's just say that he was getting freebies.
And then there was the guy who comes in every week to insist that public housing is just another way of the government monitoring people. He rants and raves with the wildest conspiracy theories for about twenty minutes and then asks about his application and wonders out loud why he hasn't got a house yet.
And then there was this encounter:
CUST: "So I've been approved for X amount?"
ME: "Yes."
CUST: "Cool." Customer then makes a phone call to a landlord. "Hey, I'd like to move into the flat you've got advertised. Can you call me back? Here's my number," says a number of a mobile phone, "When can I move in? Eh? What? Well f*ck you. Just give me the f*cking place. Who f*cking cares how old I am, why do you want to know that sh*t for? No, I don't have references. Sure, sure, hey, call me back you c*nt or I'll come and find you." He then turned to me and said, "I think that went well. I think I'm in with a chance there." I couldn't help but think, only if you called the city watch-house.
And then there was the guy who asked if he could borrow the local paper. He'd come in and hadn't got what he wanted and was a bit angry, but was looking like he was calming down. Wanting to diffuse a situation I thought why not. "Sure," I said, "they're free and they drop them off to us, so help yourself." He picked one up, read it a bit and rolled it up. Management came out, the next round got underway and things got nasty. Harsh words were exchanged. He then took the paper and yelled, "Here!!! You can have this back you f*cking c*nt!!!" and threw it at my head. Silly bugger. I didn't move and yet he still missed me a good foot and a half. Mind you had I moved he'd have gotten me, so I read the paper right.
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