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I once worked at a bar with a bad cockroach infestation that the owner refused to do anything about.
>at work
>woman orders water with lemon
>several minutes later, she calls over the bar manager
>said she took a sip of water
>oh a lemon seed got sucked up through my straw into my mouth
>take out of mouth
>ohwhatsthis.jpg
>baby cockroach
The cockroaches would swarm inside the ice machine because of the warmth, then eventually die and drop down into the ice. Every morning when we’d go to fill the ice, we’d have to pick out all the dead cockroaches.
The mexicans in the kitchen would just squish the cockroaches they’d see on the walls and never clean them up, so everywhere you’d look on the walls you’d see a crusted squished cockroach with a leg or antennae sticking out.
One girl went to grab a beer out of the stand-up coolers where the doors slide open. She slid the door open and a cockroach fell off the door and landed in the front of her shirt.
Quit after three weeks after having the epiphany that working in an environment where even when I come home, I’d shake out my clothes/shoes before entering the house and proceed to be hyper-sensitive and jumping at everything that brushed across my skin wasn’t fucking worth it.
