One hot summer I worked for the Lil Stinker company, a guy down the
street from us that pumped septic tanks. It actually wasnt a bad
job. Most of my day was spent driving all over backwoods San Diego
County in a big white pickup truck (San Diego County still had
backwoods then). My job was to get to the customer in advance of the
tank truck, find the septic tank, and dig down to the lid so everything
would be ready when Sweeney got there with the tank truck. The tank
truck was great–huge black monster with two white stripes running
down the back, a picture of a skunk, and his phone number. If you saw
it once, you remembered it instantly whenever your toilets backed up.

Over the course of the summer Sweeney told me a number of interesting
and possibly true stories. This has always been one of my favorites.

Sweeney got called out to this house in Rancho Santa Fe, a very ritzy
suburb. Typical problem, the toilets are backing up. Young husband
answers the door, tells him the tank is out there somewhere. Sweeney
goes out, finds and uncovers the tank, takes a look inside. Its got
zillions of condoms happily floating on top of the, ah, other
contents. Theyve floated up against the outflow hole, thereby
blocking up the whole system. Sweeney walks back up to the house and
brings the guy out to show him what the problem is. The guy is
obviously stunned, so Sweeney starts to explain that condoms dont do
well in a septic tank. The guy cuts him off and says between clenched
teeth, I dont use them. He thinks it over for a minute, writes
Sweeney a check for the full bill, and tells him to just leave it like
it is. To this day he has no idea what happened when the wife got home.

[Ed: Reportedly an Urban Legend]