The Demon’s Touch: Brad
“Got a weird one for ya, Brad,” my boss said the moment I stepped into his office.
“Is this another hoarder house?” I sighed. “Or an old lady with forty-seven cats that needs a new kitchen sink?”
I’d been working as a plumber for almost six months now and I was tired of getting all the shit jobs the other guys didn’t want. Being the newbie meant I was the one going into muddy crawlspaces, the one fixing broken sewer pipes, and definitely the one that got sent to the most heinous and disgusting homes I’d ever seen. And I was starting to get just a little fucking tired of it.
“Neither,” the boss said, shaking his head. “It’s actually a pretty clean business downtown in the warehouse district. They’re one of our biggest customers.”
I grabbed a chair, flopping down in it and crossing my arms. “So what’s the catch then?”
“Well, none of the other guys want to go to this place on account of…”
“Ofwhat?” I was getting tired of this. “Come on, Kevin. Stop jerkin’ me around.”
“It’s a bathhouse,” he said at last.
“And? Who gives a shit?”
“It’s one of those bathhouses that people have sex in.” He said it like the company didn’t fix hot tubs and pools all the time that peopledefinitelyfucked in. “And it’smenonly.”
Oh.
“So tell the guys to duct tape their buttholes shut or something,” I shot back. I didn’t give a shit if men fucked each other. I didn’t make a habit of dating guys, but I’d experimented plenty in college. “What are they afraid of?Likingwhat they see?”
“All of them are refusing to go.”
“You’re the fucking boss. Tell them to go anyway.”
“And it’s a bit of an emergency at the bathhouse,” Kevin continued, completely ignoring me.
“Their sauna is malfunctioning and there’s a hot tub that won’t drain.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said, leaning forward in my chair. “You’re going to send me, a single person, to do a four man job at a bathhouse because you can’t get your employees to work?”
“Not appreciating the tone, Brad.”
“Am I wrong?” I retorted. When he didn’t answer, I continued. “Am I getting paid overtime for this?” I pointed at the clock. “It’s four right now. Just fixing the sauna alone could keep me there until ten!”
Kevin leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples like I was the one giving him a headache. "Yes, Brad. You'll get overtime. Time and a half after six."
"Double time," I countered.
"Don't push it."
"You're pushing it by sending me alone to do what should take a crew." I wasn't backing down on this one. Kevin knewdamn well this was bullshit, and if he was going to screw me over, I was at least going to get paid for it.
He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. Double time after eight. That's the best you're getting."
I stood up, grabbing my tool belt from where I'd dropped it by the door. "Give me the address."
Kevin slid a work order across his desk and I snatched it up, scanning the details. The place was simply called “The Bathhouse” and the contact name just said “Front Desk Guy”. Unhelpful. But whatever, money was money.
"One more thing," Kevin said as I turned to leave. "The owner specifically requested that whoever we sent be... open-minded."
I paused at the door. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Just... don't cause any trouble, alright? This account is worth a lot to us."
