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From the full version of Sunnyside's Lousy Book

Summer of 97

The crazy workloads were all but over compared to the years before. There was no back log of homes to do. However I did get a surprise phone call by a banker who learned about me through a real-estate broker somehow.
       The house was in the north end of Tacoma and the phone call was one of the very few out of the blue I gotten in the resent years. I was amazed that his call even got through and I've wondered ever since that day if there was a predetermined strategy to let the particular call through.
       Since the banker had never met me before, he wanted me to draw up a contract which in turn was one of the only three contracts I've ever written in my whole life.
       The funny thing is that once I'd finished the job. The garage he'd planed to paint himself looked much easier by having me paint it for him, so he had me give him a bid on it too. The neat thing about is that he didn't ask for a contract the second time around doing business with me.
       Then upon paying me; I pointed out to him that he had made a mistake on his payments amounts and that he had overpaid me by a hundred bucks. He said, "Keep it. You did a nice job."

It wasn't long before I had a problem at my shop and I wasn’t too thrilled to tell the landlord about. The problem was with the septic tank backing up. I learned that sewer lines had been laid down below the road surfaces, but the landlord had never had the shop hooked up to it.
       I decided to do a little digging around to find the septic tank and figured I might have the company I worked for to drop by and pump out the tank and see if that would clear out any handy wipes and get a second life out of it for a while.
       After a digging around a bit I found an old five hundred gallon oil drum which had been stood on end for a septic tank. While digging around it to determine whether there wasn't anything more than just gravel filled in around it for a drain field, I determined that it didn’t mater; I noticed the gravel level would lower when prodding around one side of the tank. I figured that it was rusted out and best to be left alone.
       I called the landlord and told him what I’d found and said that I would call up the company I did work for and have them give us a bid on what it would cost to have the county sewer hooked up to it.
       While waiting on the word as to what the cost of a sewer hook-up would cost, I began to shit in a five gallon bucket and only using the primitive tank for gray water and piss.

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