...and out come the fleas

If you caught the punk rock reference in the title, I will give you a hug.

I'm still scratching my head about this, even eight hours after our crew discovered fleas in apartment E. Yep. They were every-stinkin-where.

Back story-- About three weeks to a month ago, we were sent to paint one of the apartments in this building, but called away when the neighboring apartment in that building was found to have fleas. This room was then bug-bombed with extreme prejudice. We don't know where they came from. Speculation afterwards led our crew to believe that whoever lived in the apartment was a total slob, seeing as pets are not allowed in these buildings.

So, after three weeks to a month, they're still in there. And what's worse: they've spread their blight. Tiny, irritating little jump-aholics... getting all over my legs. It was like a very anti-climactic nightmare. At least it was only Chase, Travis, and I in the room with the fleas. So, after about fifteen or twenty minutes of brushing off the little blighters and sulking about the rampant pest infestation, the three of us walked (you didn't think they'd let us ride in the van, did you?) back to the village. We then bagged up our clothes and took showers... long showers.

I can't afford to burn these clothes. A curse upon you, whoever brought this menace to our feet (and ankles, and sort of calves)! A curse of irritating red dots all over your skin!