M y father ran a huge mall and office complex called Midtown Plaza in downtown Rochester, New York, when I was young, so my friends and I always had summer jobs. Because he did not want to show me favoritism (and I was a lippy know-it-all), I always got the worst jobs. I crawled belly down through ancient puddles of coolant and rainwater, under a twenty-ton roof chiller while dragging a fire hose to blow out the stray gravel. Painted the underside of forty-foot-long HVAC units with a three-inch brush taped to a broom handle. Tended the thirty-yard dumpsters. Disposed of fluorescent lightbulbs, used toilets, office partitions, cables, chains, buckets, wire, lead pipes, broken PVC, wet Sheetrock, shredded ceiling tiles, vermiculite, broken glass, and obsolete grease traps.
So, not great…
