When I lived in New Albany, IN, I worked across the river in Louisville, KY for Insight Communications. Insight supplies (or did, I don’t know if they are still there) everyone with their cable, high speed interwebz, and phone service.
I was one of the girls you call when your cable goes kaput, or if you want cable installed, or you want HBO, or you want to complain that there’s a whole bunch of pay-per-view porn on your bill that you *swear* you never ordered.
Anyway, when I got hired on there, part of the call center training was, we had to go on a ride along with one of the guys from the cable installation/repair department. I don’t know why.
I can’t remember my Cable Guy’s name, it was too long ago. But he was nice. I rode shotgun in his cable van, and we drove around Louisville putting in cable, drinking coffee, answering repair calls and eating donuts.
One house that had called in for a repair issue was in a sort of…questionable neighborhood. We went to the front door and rang the bell. A creepy looking guy let us in, and we stepped into the living room.
The first thing that hit me was the stench. It smelled horrible...like, rotting meat horrible. It was dark in there too…the blinds were turned, and there were no lamps on. There was just enough light to see, but not well. As I stood there trying not to retch my donuts and coffee up (it’s rude to barf in the customer’s living room) I looked around.
There was something all over the walls…and after a moment of scrutiny, I realized it looked like blood. It was sprayed fucking everywhere.
Working in my current field, I’ve seen a lot of crime scene photos, and I am sure that is exactly what I was standing in. I looked at Cable Guy, who was listening to Mr. Creepy Murderer Guy explain what the cable was doing wrong, just as if we were standing in a perfectly normal, tastefully furnished home in the suburbs.
Cable Guy looked back at me, and kind of jerked his head toward the door.
I didn’t wait for him to ask twice, I went right outside and climbed back into the truck to wait for him. He came out about twenty minutes later, having fixed whatever issue he needed to.
Cable Guy and I discussed Mr. Creepy, and he told me he was going to report it. I don’t know if he ever did or not, though. No one ever asked me any questions about it, and I never heard anything on the news about the coppers finding murder victims at that house.
I took “Being a Cable Install/Repair Girl” off of my list of possible careers after that.
I was one of the girls you call when your cable goes kaput, or if you want cable installed, or you want HBO, or you want to complain that there’s a whole bunch of pay-per-view porn on your bill that you *swear* you never ordered.
Anyway, when I got hired on there, part of the call center training was, we had to go on a ride along with one of the guys from the cable installation/repair department. I don’t know why.
I can’t remember my Cable Guy’s name, it was too long ago. But he was nice. I rode shotgun in his cable van, and we drove around Louisville putting in cable, drinking coffee, answering repair calls and eating donuts.
One house that had called in for a repair issue was in a sort of…questionable neighborhood. We went to the front door and rang the bell. A creepy looking guy let us in, and we stepped into the living room.
The first thing that hit me was the stench. It smelled horrible...like, rotting meat horrible. It was dark in there too…the blinds were turned, and there were no lamps on. There was just enough light to see, but not well. As I stood there trying not to retch my donuts and coffee up (it’s rude to barf in the customer’s living room) I looked around.
There was something all over the walls…and after a moment of scrutiny, I realized it looked like blood. It was sprayed fucking everywhere.
Working in my current field, I’ve seen a lot of crime scene photos, and I am sure that is exactly what I was standing in. I looked at Cable Guy, who was listening to Mr. Creepy Murderer Guy explain what the cable was doing wrong, just as if we were standing in a perfectly normal, tastefully furnished home in the suburbs.
Cable Guy looked back at me, and kind of jerked his head toward the door.
I didn’t wait for him to ask twice, I went right outside and climbed back into the truck to wait for him. He came out about twenty minutes later, having fixed whatever issue he needed to.
Cable Guy and I discussed Mr. Creepy, and he told me he was going to report it. I don’t know if he ever did or not, though. No one ever asked me any questions about it, and I never heard anything on the news about the coppers finding murder victims at that house.
I took “Being a Cable Install/Repair Girl” off of my list of possible careers after that.
Oh boy! That would make an excellent short story! Shivers!!
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