Nothing will get your attention faster than seeing a Hazardous Materials Clean-Up Truck parked at the end of your block. I held my breath as I drove by (couldn't help it), parked in the driveway, and ambled over. As I made my way to the truck I checked for oil-slicked local critters, bubbling ooze from the ground, noxious odors, or anything else unusual. I gingerly approached the truck and peered behind itů
I would have thought T-shirts and jeans would be a little relaxed for a HazMat dress code, but what do I know? I was kind of expecting suits with hoods and face masks. Maybe rubber gloves and a Darth Vader breathing apparatus? A clothespin on the nose?
Turns out the township hired the Hazardous Materials Clean-up Truck to inspect the sewers. Now there's a fun job. These guys had a TV camera mounted on a midget pontoon boat that they lowered down into the sewer.
An accomplice downstream held a guide rope and they sailed the TV camera on the murky waters from one sewer opening to the next, recording the inside of the sewer on VHS all the way down the street. I wonder who's going to watch THAT tape. Talk about no plot.
The most frightening part was leaning over and looking down into the sewer. (Yes, I felt compelled in some sick way to do that.)
"SEWER SEES SEWER"
If the "water" whooshing by way down at the bottom didn't give you the creeps, the metal rungs on the side of the hole would. They put those there so that somebody could VOLUNTARILY CLIMB DOWN THERE. Yew! Major ICK!
And, I don't care how many times you wash your hands at the end of the day; no amount of antibacterial soap is going to be enough.
Gives a whole new meaning to my favorite bumper sticker: I'D RATHER BE QUILTING.