The neighbors had told me the situation was terrible, but I did not expect it to be to that extent.
Jorge was lying on the floor, probably passed out drunk.
The stench of rotting fast food filled the house. His Beatles t-shirt was soaking wet, perhaps because the place was so hot one could barely function. Walking towards Jorge, I stepped on something sticky that I dared not to investigate. When I checked his pulse, he was still breathing. I tried switching on the cooling equipment, but nothing happened, so I opened the windows. I called a cleaning crew first and then the HVAC business. Lucky for me, the cooling corporation was not having one of its jam-packed days because they told me that an HVAC contractor would be at the house in two hours or less. The local service provider asked if I had noticed any noises from the electric heat pump, but I told him he needed to come urgently and be ready for anything. From the state of the house, it was safe to assume that the maintenance of the cooling device was the least of my worries. I poured cold water on Jorge, which managed to stir him up. I helped him to the bathroom, hoping he was still lucid enough to bathe. The cooling specialist arrived two hours later, half an hour behind the cleaning crew. He pretended not to notice the mess while I directed him to the climate control system. After inspecting the HVAC installation, he immediately started on the quality AC service. He then replaced the a/c filter and told me I was lucky the air conditioning system was using the latest cooling technology; otherwise, I would have had to buy a new device. The cooling technician wanted to talk more about helping with indoor comfort but decided to spare me since I could not pay attention given my situation. It was going to be a long day for me.