It is the day before Thanksgiving. A holiday that was borrowed from another country so we could all be reminded to give thanks that perhaps we weren't the Indians. We'll just sweep that under the proverbial rug. Don't get me wrong, I fall into the trap, too. I find myself reflecting about the year that has passed, the months and days set up as a time count...that may or may not be real. But, I do it, too. Reflect.
Some years have really been shit. Others have been golden. This year felt longer than most. My heart and body tried by loss of loves, some friends...you know that ole stuff. i am getting to the age where births really are that special and unique, and deaths happen in more frequent occurrence. I am no longer the invincible youth. Yes, it has been a long year. But, I'm not dead. And I didn't kill anyone else. Upon reflection, it has not been too shabby. I can say that others have it way worse. I can say that I am thankful that I'm not THAT GUY.
I once spent a summer as an RV Porter. It paid well, and all I had to do was clean RV's all day. Inside and out...sometimes get things extra shiny for a customer...a make-ready. The RV Porter before me was apparently a really shitty RV Porter. I'm not completely positive how one becomes a really shitty RV Porter. There's not much to the job to begin with. I had a tool belt where I hung my rags and cleaning supplies. There was extra long brushes, and hoses. And air fresheners. Spray, wipe, spray, wipe...then spritz. How can one truly be a shitty RV Porter?
I even installed giant, plastic tape carpet. Yes, they do make it. Oh, I sold it as a must have to protect the carpets in the RV's, since we were located on a big dirt lot. All the customers and sales people tracking in the dirt into the nice carpets, etc. But, truly, I was just a bit lazy. I didn't want to lug the giant RV vacuum around. Instead I just had a smaller broom. Carpet tape, problem solved. Hell, I got a raise and many accolades for my love and special care for the RV's. (Yes, you should question that.) I even took naps sometimes, on the clock...out on the lot, by one of the giant trees, hidden out in the sea of RV's. So, no, I really cannot understand how one becomes a shitty RV Porter. A complete mystery.
I was the only female on the lot. This did kind of suck sometimes. Alone with the rednecks...all the same jokes, over and over and over. Yeah, you're right, never heard that one before. And yes, I must like women since I don't want to see your dick. I had pink or purple hair, didn't shave my arm pits...it was just to much for some.
Generally, I was able to escape the majority of the nonsense. I was too "rough around the edges" to be considered a little sister of sorts, and to "girlie" to truly be one of the guys. For most of the roughnecks I was a strange anomaly not to be completely understood, but sometimes to poke fun at or be scared of, and possibly fuck.
In the summer the temperature in an RV can be about 160-180 degrees Fahrenheit. No shit. They are all made of metal and more metal, and some plastic and fumes and more metal. One particular day, it was already incredibly hot, and I had a make-ready on one of the previously owned RV's to get done. Now, the used RV's could be kind of tricky...everyone wanted them to look like new. Well, they aren't new, and they're made of crap plastic and metal. But, I had all the tricks and RV Porter could possibly have. By this time, I had full rage of the Supply Catalog at my disposal and was no longer EVER questioned about my buys. And trust me when I tell you I bought the shit out of that catalog like the RV Porter Apocalypse was going to happen at any moment!!!!! I had every temporary tint for repainting, every scrubber, every special spray bottle, every foaming cleaner, every bleachy cleaner, every fucking scented air freshener product. EVERYTHING!!!!! I bought the shit out of that catalog. Yes, I did. The bosses thought I was just super busy...not bored. Another raise.
On this particular day, I went out to do the make-ready. And all the lot guys were kind of standing around, slightly in my area. Oh, they looked suspicious, but not suspicious enough for me to call them out on. I thought maybe one of them had finally produced that giant blunt. I did think maybe I was fixing to get it...whatever it was. So, I did proceed with caution, my ears perked, my spray bottle at the ready. They continued to stare as I gathered all my special items and walked towards the RV. I could hear a small giggle as I put my hand on the door latch. Again, giant blunt or trick...didn't know. I opened the door and stepped in. Then, I promptly turned right back around and fled from the RV and vomited on the ground. The smell, the horrible smell of death and decay. I had smelled this before. I vomited so hard that I pee'd my pants a bit, and it brought tears to my eyes with the sting of the stench.
The lot guys all busted out laughing....giant hoots and belly laughs, beer guts and fat shaking all around. Only one came and dumped some cat litter on my vomit pile and offered and explanation. The rest dispersed with claps and high-fives and giggles.
Apparently, the RV had been loaned out for a week for a movie shoot, over the week of the Fourth of July. Super hot time of year. And apparently a guy, who drank a lot, and was really fat, died on the Friday of that weekend, and no one found him until the next Monday. No one noticed the fat, drunk guy wasn't answering his phone. No one. The trailer's AC wasn't on, so basically the guy melted and exploded in the RV. Now, there had been a cleaning crew who got most of the dead guy stuff out of the trailer, but they had told the RV company probably best to just junk it. But, the RV company, had already re-sold it. I'm thinking that the cleaning crew that hired were probably not that professional - cheap yes, professional no. It became my job, to somehow magically get the dead guy smell out of the RV.
After all the shit I took from the guys about this, I was somewhat determined. Ok, really determined. There was a point that needed to be made. I had to triumph over the lot guys. I had to prove myself. It was my life mission. I became focused...super focused. No more time to pee myself or vomit. What and learn boys, watch and learn...I was the one that had installed the tape carpet!!!!
I took time to review the magic catalog and found nothing. I made called to other cleaning companies who really would not give me any information - not share any "trade secrets" - but would clean it for a price. I finally ended up calling a janitorial supply house. And I was a bit nervous to ask them if they had any products to get the smell of dead guy out of things. The man calmly replied that the did have such products. I then asked him, if he got that question a lot. He replied that he did get that question a far amount. I felt like I needed to reassure him that I was not a crazed woman with a dead lover or a serial killer, would I need any special ID or anything? Nope.
I took the company credit card and the company truck and nervously made my way across town to the Janitorial Supply. Upon arrival, I explained who I was, and what had happened, and that I was the one that had called about the dead guy smell.
Not only did I get great customer service, but a lengthy tutorial about dead things and their odors and which products go where and how much and how long, etc., etc., etc. I felt at that moment that I was being respected. I was with other professionals in my field. I belonged. So much sharing knowledge and respect.
I even bought a special mask. And upon my return to the lot, I dawned my mask and my tool belt and went to work. By day's end, there was no more dead guy smell. Everything was shiny and clean and fresh...a hint of cinnamon spice wafted in the air. Well, it was as clean as it could be for a used RV.
The lot guys didn't say anything. No high-fives for me, no compliments. A bunch of shut the fuck up. Yeah a huge does of that.
I'm not that guy. Thankful for that.
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