It takes a certain skill to be an exterminator – one part psychologist, one part scientist, one part hitman. Every time someone opens their door to you, there’s that look of terror – like they just sat through eight-hours of horror movies specially selected to get into their precise phobia. Mice. Wasps. Spiders. Ants. You name it; I’ve killed it. It’s gruesome, I know – to go in to kill a living thing without an ounce of shame or remorse – but someone has to do it.
At first, I used to get queasy about the mice – they were the worst – until a buddy told me about when he lived in Texas, and he had to go into a house filled with scorpions. I didn’t complain about the mice after that.
If I were to be honest, the thing that keeps me in this business is the sense of relief that crosses the faces of my customers once I tell them their problem is solved. The bottom line to human nature is this: people don’t like dealing with their issues. It’s a fact. That’s where I come in. I get paid to deal with your problem. I just make less than a shrink.
(c) Elvira Berezowsky
Excerpt story from "In the Absence Of..."
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