Part of my route covered a "not a safe part of town" residential area. At the time, I was a young, naive white kid in a pest control uniform. Scared shitless, I've been given this one-time-treatment contract for this...shack.
It's a duplex, but, one side doesn't have a roof. My contract is to treat the whole thing, too. I walk up, and this guy with no shirt, and this LARGE gauze bandage on his stomach answers the door. He doesn't answer it cheerfully. I say I'm here to treat for bugs, and suddenly he lights up and is the friendliest person one could ever meet. He calls his girlfriend(?) over to point out where they saw bugs (specifically roaches). This side of the duplex is fairly clean and well taken care-of, however, they have a teenage boy that "lives" in the other part of the duplex. I'm lead to a door that opens up into the other side.
When you open a door into a residence, you should not be hit in the face by the sun at noon. I give my best "wat" expression, and she motions me to go in. She won't enter the place, and for good reason. There's dog-shit all over the floors. Undisturbed dog-shit. Apparently the son had a pet dog, and the dog squat down wherever it felt like on the floor, and not the fenced in yard outside. I'm talking mine-field here.
The bedroom had a mattress with one yellowed sheet. I couldn't tell if that was the natural color, or the dog/owner had just simply pissed the thing all over and left it like that. That was all that was in the bedroom (besides dog-shit). I hope you haven't forgotten that I've mentioned there isn't a roof on this side of the duplex, because, it's still not there. This dude literally camps out under the open sky every night.
The kitchen had no doors on the cabinets. You know what? I literally can't describe anything else in this place, since there literally wasn't anything else in this place, besides missing doors, a mattress with a yellow sheet, and did I mention dog-shit?
I do a perimeter treatment, and do what I can as far as a normal treatment. I bait for roaches in the cracks, and finish up this side. Alright, got this done. I open the door back into the "civilized" part of the duplex, and the man that had the gauze on his stomach was now lying on the couch, gauze removed, and preparing a new pad. This guy had no skin on his stomach. A visible cut-square of flesh was just missing, and the fat-layer was just there, exposed to the open air (no blood, mind you). He started talking to me like nothing out of the ordinary was happening, "See any bugs?"
I finished treatment of the place, and the amusing part of it all? I saw 0 bugs in the entire place. I never got a return service call to the place either. I assume the dog-shit half of the duplex had scared away all the bugs, causing them to move into a better part of town.