Joe Class IIIYou can smell hot asphalt from three blocks away. But when you're standing next to 525-degree molten tar, that smell becomes everything.
Friday morning. New roofer Darrell claimed to be a journeyman. I believed him.
When it came time to fill the hi boy with hot asphalt, I trusted that he'd done his part. I pulled the rope.
Big mistake.
Ever trusted the wrong person at the worst possible time? π₯π·ββοΈ
