I used to work construction jobs with my dad during the summer while school was out. (Gotta get that $1.50 an hour!)…
He put me on cleaning this garage that a grown man who was living with his parents had used as his personal dumpster for months. It saved him probably 3 minutes to throw trash there, in a huge pile, rather than walk it down to the household trash bins. Our job was to redo the garage, but first it had to be cleaned. There was no electricity, so no lights, and the garage doors were broken, so there was just a side door to pull everything through and not much light. It was early and I wanted to get it done before it got hot again.
I went to reach for a big piece of fabric on top, started to pull, and felt something on my arm so jerked back quickly. The fabric flung what looked like thousands of roaches into the air and towards me (probably 10 in reality) where they all started flying, backlit by the sun coming through the garage door windows.
I had roaches on me, gloves I didn’t want to touch my face with, and trash up to my shins that I couldn’t just run through. Nastiest 15 seconds of my life and once I got to the door I still had to go back in and clean the rest. I’ll never forgive that guy.
I ended up disassembling the garage doors and pushing everything with shovels after that, but I can still smell that sludge that trash turns into when you leave it too long…