Not to be chewed

The annual Termite Inspection came yesterday, as it has every October since 2003. Usually I follow the inspector around the premises, but that wasn’t happening. And it’s probably just as well, since anything I’m likely to say is going to be a variation on the theme of “Sorry about the mess.”

They’ve changed one protocol since last time: instead of a paper receipt, they email you a PDF. As always, they asked whether this is the correct billing address; as always, I wrote out a check rather than wait for the bill. But this chap seemed surprised at my, um, “low account number,” giving me the impression that a lot of their customers move on after a few years, while I’ve been here for thirteen.

Me, I’m thinking warranty: if I keep this up, and some year they actually find the hungry little bastards on the premises, the contract says that they will remediate at no additional cost. Over the years I’ve forked over a little more than a grand, which is trivial next to the average Kill The Damn Bugs bill.

Comments are closed.