Back when we first moved into our house, I took down the basement ceiling. I’d never before attempted such a task, and all was fine until I ripped open a moldy piece of wood andâ€”Plopâ€”out fell the moldy skelleton of a dead rat. That was a pretty bad moment.
In the ensuing years, I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of the story. Sometimes the rat lands on my head, sometimes my foot, sometimes my hand. Sometimes the rat falls in slow motion, and I push a naked Halle Berry out of its way.
Point is, very few people I know have truly gross stories like that. A couple of days aoo, however, I heard a tale that destroyed mine. The teller was Michael Segreto, our new plumber and a seemingly nice guy. I asked Michael to share with me the nastiest thing he’s ever seen on the job. His response?
“When I was in my early 20s, I got a call to a funeral home. When I showed up they took me downstairs, where they embalmed the bodies. The embalming pipes were clogged and overflowing. So we had to do something. Well, the pipes started to overflow. It was all the stuff from inside the corpsesâ€”blood, fluid, everything. That’s what we had to clean up … the only time I’ve ever vomited from the smell of something. I’ll never forget that.”