Anyone can do my job. Right? Money for old rope. Chuck some blue stuff about for rats. Wasps? Just puff a bit of white powder at them and hold ye hand out for loadsa munny!!! Ye reckon so? Try this .....
Van pulls up at my gate, last monday. Pushing 22:00. Bloke telling me he has a wasps nest in his roof space. Great! It's getting darker and they'll all be in bed. Perfect time to go after them. I grab my kit and off we go.
As he's assured me it's visible and accessible, I'm even happier. I figured I could use the aerosol can on this one. No need for pumping up Dusters and screwing long tubes together to shoot shit between his slates, in the dark. I'd just sneak across the joists and frag the fucker. Nice little earner!
So, we get there and up goes the ladder. My back's been gone for the past fortnight but, it was well enough by then that I reckoned the exercise would do me good. Up he goes. I follow ..... WTF?!
This cunt's got more fucking fibreglass than B&Q! It's almost knee deep in the stuff up there! Where the fuck are the joists then?! " Just follow my footsteps and ye'll be on a joist. " He says.
Brilliant! So, now I'm supposed to tread exactly where ever he's just trod. Keep my eyes ~ and hands ~ on the rather eclectically positioned rafters. And not crash suddenly back into his fucking kitchen below?! This wasn't enjoyable any more.
Presently, we work our way over to a wall. Eighteen inches thick it was. I could tell that. Because, at above waist height, there was an eighteen inch hole in it. And matey's indicating that the bastards are 'In There'. Great.
What ever. I figure I'll hit them from the hole. Vaguely wondered if it'd be a tennis ball, or the full football sized nest. Held my trusty Clu-Liter Classic through and had a look around for the nest.
OMFG!!! I, more or less managed to keep my composure and calmly and firmly instructed the client to now vacate the roof space. I told him to close the hatch behind him. And, what ever else should follow? NOT to open it again.
I pointed out that the rest was my own responsibility. If things got nasty up here? That would be my problem. I was paid to do this shit. I was here to protect him. I took the necessary risks.
Off he went. I heard the hatch close. I started taking the fucking risks! First off, with a barely stable back, I had to hoist myself up and start wriggling through this poxy little 'Monks Hole'. I'm coming through it like a bloody crocodile. Body held stiff and straight as I pulled myself through by my hands.
At least, I was relieved to see, there were 'floor boards' on the other side. Bit warpy and iffy looking, maybe. But ..... But then I actually touched one. It crumbled like a fucking wafer! Oh, Shit!
Frankly, I don't remember much about the next bit. I just, somehow, managed to get my body through that hole and my feet onto the only discernible joist, as I clung, desperately, the the rafter above. And I wasn't too sure about either of those. This was an Old cottage!
So, there I am. Perching on this half rotten joist. One hand locked to a rotten rafter. I'm a good eight foot from the nest and, if it all goes to rat shit in the next couple of minutes? I've no where to run. Just What The Fuck am I doing here?!
With my free hand, I reach for the aerosol in my thigh pocket. Idea is that ye give it a burst of this stuff, to stun them. Then ye steadily approach, giving them another burst. Finally, to stroll up like John Wayne and pump the shit straight into the nest. And I'm eight foot away and can't move an inch. Brilliant.
I stretched my arm out as far as I could, toward the nest and I hit that button! Jet of shit shot out. Air turned acrid. I sprayed. Silently screamed. Sprayed. Prayed. Sprayed. And the can was empty. I thought; " One fucking buzz, and so will my bowels be! ".
I sat. I stared, wide eyed. Nothing! Right; Fuck this. I'm getting out of here! And off I went. Back along my joist. Through my hole. Across the mine field of invisible joists and back down to the normality of this guys kitchen.
I filled out my paper work. Took his forty quid. Told him that, if there was still visible activity by Wednesday, I'd come back and re treat the nest at no cost to him what so ever. I guarantee my work.
It's saturday night now. He hasn't called. Thank Fuck! I got the bastards.
Oh, and that nest? Size or a tennis ball? Size of a football? In my game, ye get use to that. Now, just Look At what I had confronting me; In a place I couldn't possibly have escaped from, had it all gone tits up!
Size of a Fucking Black Bin Bag!!!
Like everyone seems to think though; " Pest Control? Anyone can do that! Pop down to B&Q for some stuff ..... Fuckin' easy! "
Yeah. My trade? " Fuckin' easy. " Just like a professional Electrician, Plumber, Plasterer .....
