run, forrest

a lot of my job consists of going into projects in the, um, less desirable parts of new york and taking environmental samples. how do i do this, you ask? well, i get into scrubs because i don't want to wear my own clothes. then i get on my hands and knees, attach a special adapter to an oreck vaccuum cleaner, and then vaccuum these peoples' hovels. another thing that goes along with all of this is interviewing them. i ask questions about their history, whether or not they smoke, or if they use a humidifier.

you know, the easy things.

i came across a woman today, however, that literally blew my mind. she was so slow that she told us the wrong address of her house. the house she's lived in since, presumably, birth. it's her mother's house. let me give you an example of the way this morning's interview went:

me: how many colds has the baby had since we last talked?
her: cold?
me: yes. colds. how many colds has the baby had?
her: i'm not cold; i've got this jacket on.
me: no. the baby. how many colds has the baby had?
her: the baby's right over there.

and then this gem:

me: do you use a central air conditioner at any time in the home? [i can see that she doesn't.]
her: when it gets hot i turn the knob.
me: so do you use a central air conditioner?
her: sometimes it's hot in here.
me: so when it's hot do you have a central air conditioner that you use? it would have a thermostat on the wall and cold air would blow through vents in the wall.
her: [pointing to the room air conditioner] i use it when it's hot.

there was a white castle across the street from the project. my two coworkers and i stopped in after the visit and then greedily ate the whole bag of fatty goodness as soon as we got back to the office. we'd earned it.