clean out
The room behind this had no windows. A heavy door labeled “Chemical Store Room” was ajar. A halogen light lit the space. Shelf after shelf of Pyrex test tubes, bunsen burners, distilling flasks, specimen jars, every conceiveable meth lab accoutrament was sitting under dust.
“Take whatever you want, just don’t tell’em I gave it to you”, said the guy in charge of the clean out.
The joy of under employment is the free time to hunt in dumpsters, and when the big prize arrives, to spend four or five hours loading up the truck and hauling it away.
demolition excites me
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