I don’t even understand

I hated my summer job in high school. I had to work for my uncle in his pizzeria every year. You’d think a teenager would love having free pizza to eat every day, but the place was such a dump. It was in a little concrete block building and had one big window facing the street that didn’t open and a couple of ceiling fans. It could seat about twenty people but most of the business was take-out and slices. The pizza was really good. My uncle grew his own tomatoes and made the sauce from an old family recipe. What I hated was how hot and grimy the place would get and that I had to clean it all up. You can only imagine how gross it gets in a tiny pizza shop with a smoky oven going full blast. My uncle’s pride and joy was his wood fired pizza oven. He loved the flavor it gave his pies and that it was cheap to operate. But the grease and grime that collected in the exhaust fans and venting was disgusting. The smoke would go up the vent into the hood, where it is was filtered, before entering the duct system. That filtration is supposed to prevent fires by keeping grease from building up in the ducts. I would have to get on a ladder and scrub the crud off the venting and hood every Sunday after closing. It would take me hours. When the exhaust system broke down one time, my uncle did call in an HVAC technician to get it working again. When the technician showed up, he spotted the problem right away. He had to change out filters and replace a belt which connected to the fan that spun the air through the exhaust ducts.

indoor comfort