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Miranda’s story: a visit from the PCO for bed bugs, part 2

nobugsonme — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 03:52:16 +0000

Editor’s note:

Miranda sent us an update today. You can read the first part of her story here. When we last heard from Miranda, a PCO tech (called Ariel) had promised her a second, thorough, bed bug treatment from her original tech (Caliban) in her apartment in a multi-unit building.

Rated PG [language]

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Miranda’s story, part 2

Now, Caliban was supposed to come to my apartment at 6:00 last night to do a follow-up, per Ariel.

According to Caliban, though, Ariel was supposed to have treated five other apartments on Saturday, but instead sat on my couch shooting the shit about Madonna with me. So, to cover his ass, he had to double-book himself and Caliban on Monday and today. Caliban called and told me about this ahead of time but told me I couldn’t tell Ariel that Caliban had warned me that he was no longer scheduled to treat my apartment. Caliban assumed that Ariel would call me to reschedule and told me to insist that someone do my follow-up last night, because it was only right.

I never received a call from Ariel, so at 6:05 last night, I called him. He did not answer. I left a message saying I just wanted to make sure someone was coming to do my follow-up, because it was after 6:00 and no one had arrived. By 6:35, no one had called and no one had shown up.
I called Caliban. He told me he’d come to do the follow-up tonight even if he didn’t get paid for it, because this was not right.

Caliban showed up tonight looking almost exactly like Ariel did on Saturday, minus the chest hair. He had on nice jeans, black shoes, a nice button-down shirt, and he reeked (absolutely reeked) of cologne. And he was holding a single can of D-Force. I couldn’t make this shit up if you paid me, I swear it.

He took one look at my sweats and ratty hair (rainy commute) and then barely acknowledged me again, except to tell me that he was not getting paid for this because his boss does not like to do follow-up treatments. He said that’s because his boss only gets paid for the first visit, so he tries to avoid coming back to do the free follow-up — it’s a waste of time and money.

He sprayed the underside of my mattress and the top and underside of my box springs (all encased) and then he sprayed my bed frame, set the can of D-Force on my bedroom floor, and said goodbye. I was really unnerved at that point– I was probably more frightened than anything, simply because I’d realized that this man was in my home on his own time, saturated in cologne, and all dressed up for SOMETHING. So all I said as he walked out the door was “What do I do if I get bit again?”. He said “You won’t. I don’t know why you’re getting bites now! I sprayed the hell out of this place the first time I was here; you shouldn’t be getting bites anymore anyway. You won’t.” He did turn to me, though, as he was walking out the door, and said “Give me a call anytime.” He smiled and winked and then he was gone.

So I proceeded to do what any normal girl would do in this situation. I mean, my landlord tried to blame me for “bringing them in” and I had to fight tooth and nail to get him to pay for this (which, for the record, cost him a whopping $160.00)! And now I know there’s no way I’m getting Caliban back in here without some sort of exchange that has nothing to do with money at all. So, I donned the rubber gloves and gas mask I’d purchased in anticipation of this exact scenario, I grabbed the can of D-Force Caliban left and the other can that Ariel had left on Saturday (presumably to go back to the office empty-handed), and I treated the place myself.

Here, my friends, is a classic example of a person who is desperate (tomorrow marks fourteen days since my first treatment; I am allergic to bed bug bites and am swelling and have hives in all sorts of fun places) taking matters into her own hands and potentially misusing toxic pesticides.

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Editor’s note:

Bedbugger.com does not recommend self-treatment for bed bugs. We simply think a well-trained pest control operator who knows bed bugs can do a better job, more efficiently, and avoid spreading the problem further.

We know people can harm themselves with pesticides or make their bed bug problems worse.

That said, we are immensely frustrated to hear stories like this from Bedbugger readers. Miranda lives in a locality where landlords are required by law to eliminate bed bugs. However, simply requiring landlords provide bed bug treatment is perhaps not explicit enough.

People with bed bugs need appropriate, aggressive treatment (and inspections of adjacent units, with treatment if necessary). Remember, Miranda told us in her last letter that she had “seen and photographed four mattresses and box springs discarded beside our building dumpsters” in the past week. Are others getting inspections? Treatment? Similar Posts:

A visit from the PCO to treat bed bugs (first-person account from Miranda)

nobugsonme — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 21:37:52 +0000

Dear Readers,

A Bedbugger has agreed to let me share this story of her recent treatment by a Pest Control Operator for bed bugs.

Reader “Miranda” wrote the epistle below (which she emailed me) and I took the liberty of changing names to protect the parties involved.

Sensitive readers, please be warned, the item below contains a small amount of “language” (Miranda’s, but not nearly as much as you might expect, given the scenario that unfolds), and an ignorant racist statement (heard by Miranda, certainly not made by her, or us).

Lots of tempest, no teacup.

Enjoy. And thanks to Miranda for the excellent reportage.

nobugs, your Editor

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Dear nobugs,

I scheduled my follow-up appointment with the PCO for today. Here’s how my day went today:

-woke up at 8:22 am to a phone call from the president and owner of PCO company, who informed me that his tech “Caliban” had searched my apartment “from top to bottom” when he was here the first time (mind you, the guy was here for a grand total of 35 minutes) and he didn’t find any bed bugs, so unless I could produce a specimen when they arrived this afternoon, they weren’t treating

-when I said that I would have a specimen ready and waiting, he said “So if I show up with my tech today, you’ll be able to show me a bed bug?” I said that I would.

-he then said that he couldn’t understand why I still had bed bugs after his tech had inspected and treated so thoroughly (once); he said that I must be “bringing them in on [my] shoes”

-I said that I assumed, considering that I’d seen and photographed four mattresses and box springs discarded beside our building dumpsters THIS WEEK, that they were probably in our building and spreading through the walls

-he said “Hummmmmmmmmmmmmph. I’ll see you at 1:00 then” and hung up on me

-at 1:00 PM, my phone rang, and a person identifying himself as a PCO from the company asked to be let in (not my original tech)

-I answered the door to find a man dressed in black dress pants, really expensive black dress shoes, and a half-buttoned black sweater that emphasized not only his chest hair but also several gold chains, wielding a single can of D-Force, who identified himself as “Ariel”

-Ariel proceeded to enter my apartment and ask what I wanted “sprayed”

-I took Ariel to my bedroom and told him I wanted the (encased) box springs and bottom of the mattress and the bed frame “sprayed”, along with the bedside table, all the baseboards, all the cracks and crevices in the walls and window pane, and all the baseboards, cracks, and crevices in the entire apartment. I also said that I’d like for him to apply some other pesticide, preferably a dust and preferably in cracks and outlets and such

-Ariel caved quickly. He said I really needed to either do this myself because he was not prepared, or he would call Caliban (the original tech) and have him do it on Monday.

-he then said that he couldn’t understand how such a pretty, clean girl could get bed bugs

-I started educating him, using my laptop and multiple documents I’d printed

-he mentioned that my original tech was busy treating sixty (SIXTY) infested condos on the other side of town, and when my jaw dropped, he said that “black people are filthy so it’s no surprise”

-I then took out my camera and proceeded to show him the pictures I’ve taken over the last two weeks of all the mattresses and box springs (some with visible feces and bugs) discarded in my neighborhood, which is predominantly white, and pointed this out to him

-he then caved even further. He sat on my couch (crazy!). He looked at the armed forces pest control guide; he looked at the San Fransisco and the Cincinnati documents; he looked at the armed forces resistance paper

-he listened when I told him that if he or one or two of his techs became really, really informed and became bed bug specialists and truly inspected and treated thoroughly and planned and budgeted and charged according to the demands of bed bug infestations, he could make a fortune

-he told me he’d pass this along to his boss; I said his boss seemed to be quite the idiot, considering he’d suggested I was bringing bed bugs in on my shoes

-he then called Caliban and told him to come here on Monday night at 6:00 PM and spend at least two or three hours, and then he told me he would have Caliban come back as often as necessary with no charge

-then he told me that Caliban wants to date me and I should do him even though he (Caliban) is married

-then he told me that he (Ariel) is gay and would do Caliban in a second

-he finally left, after talking for fifty minutes about his Madonna tickets (which cost nearly as much as one of those new Indian cars), his upcoming Halloween party, and Caliban’s chest hair

-shortly thereafter, Caliban called to confirm our appointment and to ask me if I wanted to “get together” later today

-I told him I do not date married men, ever

-he said he understood, and then asked me how I had gotten along with Ariel; he then informed me that Ariel has been dating their boss for the last ten years (if you’re still following, you’ll know that I just told Ariel that their boss [his boyfriend] was a complete idiot)

-and then I sat down to do some research on my alderman, my ward, my senator, my representatives, and my congressman, and got bit on the neck as I typed. My ear has swelled up to twice its normal size and is now throbbing and pulsating and shit. I took pictures.

Signed,
Miranda

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