Remember That One Time?

Whassup folks! Bob the garage door guy here again (my name might be Bob, or names may have been changed to protect the innocent).

I was thinking recently (because I try not to do that terribly often) about events in people’s lives that are marking points. Significant events to be sure like weddings, the birth of a child or loss of a loved one are major ones. But I was thinking more along the lines of things you will never forget because those events were engaging in a way that, for your good or detriment, left their mark?

Before I continue with this lovely story, I want to give a shout out to my buddies “downunder”, if you live in the Sydney area contact these guys for garage door repairs in North Shore Sydney .

What am I rambling on about?

Ever accidentally stumble into your parents’ bedroom at night and see something you wish you hadn’t?

Yeah, if you are cringing at that statement like I did when I typed it (two words, the first word is “doggy”), then you have an idea of the where this is going.

And for as much as you say you don’t want to know EXCATLY where I am going, you are going to keep reading this because there is a twisted thing in all of us that is fascinated by the disturbing!

See! You’re still reading! (drop the mic)

I had one of these events happen to me recently that I thought I would share with everyone. (You are all welcome in advance)

Hoarding. What comes to your mind when you think about that?

You probably think of piles and piles of magazines and newspapers to the ceiling, things purchased and stored for no reason stacking up over time, etc. That is what I used to think too. NOT anymore!

A friend of a friend who’s cousin’s sister’s grandson’s teacher’s wife contacted me recently for help with their relative who was about to have a hoarding intervention and clean-up. The garage door would not open however, which was a problem when they needed to dispose of things through it.

To be honest, I had some hesitation in taking the job, but the lady sounded desperate to help her hoarder so I agreed.

I thought when I got there that some of the cleaning would have already have been done. Wrong!

While they had moved some of the piles of stuff to make a narrow path for me to navigate to the opener, the garage was still in a state that really is hard to describe in an accurate way.

Overwhelmingly disgusting? Like clutter and panic had a big fat angry baby?

The smell was also something that the imagination fails to conjure words for. I will tell you that this particular person had a thing for buying frozen dinners when they were on sale, and when they ran out of room in the fridge or deep freeze, they decided to just start stacking them up in a corner and keep on buying them!

It took a couple of hours to take the opener apart and remove the chain from it’s jammed position, hours I spent trying not to vomit or pay attention to various creatures scampering through their personal heavenly buffet and city.

In the end I felt good about helping that person free themselves of so many potential hazards, but what I saw will be an ever after event.

I’m off now to clean my garage.