During my twenty-seven years with the company I retired from, I worked several of those years going into homes and businesses. On heavy days I could hit fifty homes a week. The vast majority of homes were at least fairly well kept. Then there were those that were not. Here are a few of the worst.
This home's front porch was so filled with junk and trash you couldn't get to the door. I went in through the side entrance and walked into about a twenty foot hallway. Both sides of the hall were lined with over used litter boxes I'm sure had never been emptied and the odor slammed me in the face. Into the kitchen, open food on counters and dining table with around fifteen cats on those counters and floor. Cats in the living room and bedrooms. In the master bedroom where my work was, the toilet had over flowed and not fixed. The overflow covered the bedroom carpet and had soaked it long ago. The repair I made was simple, but I had to run outside several times for a new breath of air.
The next home was unkept and dirty, but that wasn't the problem. Roaches were literally everywhere. Not only floors and walls, they were thick on the ceiling and on the beds. When I used a staple gun, the 'snap' sent roaches falling from the ceiling which I had to dodge.
One mobile home I went in had chickens and roosters living in the home. They scattered as I walked through, I dodged them as I walked. Chicken shit everywhere, on the floor, dining table, and furniture.
Another mobile home was so full of dogs and cats which were not housebroken, the floors were soaked so badly one repairman went through the floor with his leg. This home was placed off limits to our employees. I heard from a friend that when the person died, a relative lit a match to it and burned it to the ground. I don't know if this was true, but could have been due to the home's isolated desert location.
I went to a home that reeked of an odor I couldn't even place. Only the living room was carpeted and in the rest of it, the tile was thickly covered with grease, like a cooking grease. I placed my hand on the floor once and immediately went back outside and cleaned my hands. Good thing we carried good soaps on our truck.
This last one I'll mention was the worst of the pack rats. The back yard and both porches were filled with junk. Now, I kid you not, every room without exception had only a pathway. That includes the kitchen and bathrooms. I turned sideways walking down the hall. I have no idea how the owner cooked, where they ate, where they slept or sat.
Here is the kicker. In all of these homes, a woman lived alone. I went into many with a lone man, but they could never compete with what I found with women. It could be coincidence, but pigs can fly, too.
I never understood how people could live under these conditions willingly. Or keep their health. How could they live in a place I couldn't breathe in? I've often wondered what led them to this point.
I saw and experienced so much in that job. The way couples live and treat each other. The conditions in which children live, and are left (I've called the police more than once about children).
And by the way, "lonely women" stories that come from men who work in homes aren't just "stories" either.
I'll tell you more sometime.