High Tech Exterminators

My old landlord /​management company contracted with this company and after several unsuccessful visits and the most stressful year of my family’s life, we moved and threw out all if our furniture. Perhaps, the whole building was infested but I never felt confident in a couple if the exterminators’ competence and the fact that
They didn’t recommend we bag up all our belongings until several unsuccessful attempts to get rid of bugs. The whole process is extremely time consuming for both renters/​owners and exterminators. They should treat not just the beds but basically the entire premises because those bugs do hide… it seems the little effort they expected in our part was also reflected in theirs.
The same guy referenced in above review was very rude, intimidating and unprofessional to me… he yelled at me for having 2 twin size box springs in a king size
Bed bug cover and ordered me to help him put it back on after I insisted I wanted them on the whole point is to protect, have a barrier…
He also took my wooden magazine rack and submerged it in water in the bathtub?! I was a little too shocked to question in that moment…
In addition, another exterminator told me to to make sure to remove dog food because bed bugs ate it… I assumed exterminators would know what a parasite is.

We found bed bugs and, as per the advice on 311, immediately told our landlords. They said «we’re going to send ‘our guy’». They’re not always so quick about sending someone, so we thought their speedy response might be a good sign — maybe they were taking our infestation as seriously as we were.
I called «their guy», High Tech, to schedule an appointment. The person who answered was friendly and gave me some information but didn’t have all the specifics on how I should prepare my books (the bugs were in our bookshelves) or clothes, so she said she’d have someone call me. The owner, Barry Licht, called me back in a timely fashion and we spoke on the phone at length about bagging up the books and clothes, how to prepare the shelves, the mattress, my dog’s safety, etc. I felt great going forward after that — like we were in totally good hands. My husband and I were up until the wee hours doing laundry, bagging up hundreds of books and all of the fabrics in our home.
When the exterminator showed up the next day he was not Barry. He didn’t seem to me like an exterminator would/​should — simply wearing pressed jeans and clean button-​up. He had a squirting can with him and a tiny briefcase.
The first thing he did was berate me for following Barry’s instructions — stating that I had made his job harder by bagging everything up and we should have just left everything as it was. Then he said he needed «your pine sol and a hard brush.» All the while he made small talk with me, asking me about my husband, my job, his job, my dog. Really, it was all a bit much.
I was already feeling terrible about having bedbugs, the sleepless nights we’d spent doing laundry and «making his job harder», living in a 350 sq/​ft apartment that was almost all in bags… so his lack of coming with the tools he needed coupled with the chit chat hit me pretty hard.
I showed him where the bedbugs were living and he told me he’d need to look under my sink at my cleansers. We had some old license plates under there from when we lived in another state, which he asked if he could have (?). (That also made me feel super weird). Then he chose my Murphy’s Oil Soap (we’re not a big, chemicals house). Again he asked for a hard brush. I handed him the toothbrush I sometimes use for cleaning and he laughed. He said, «It’s ok» and ducked into my bathroom. He started heading for the bedroom with the Murphy’s and MY TOILET BRUSH! I asked what he was doing and he said that, in lieu of me having a hard brush for him to use he would just use my toilet brush to scrub my bookshelves and headboard. MY TOILET BRUSH??? Did we not have a big enough mess without adding feces to the equation?!
Suddenly my sanity came crashing around me. Was this some kind of sick joke?
I had been texting my husband steadily since his arrival, keeping him abreast of the «exterminator’s» visit. He texted me to ask to see the guy’s license. I asked him for his license and he said «You want to see my license?! You want to see my license?! I’ve been doing this for 20 years! You need to relax!» He started shooting a stream of something (poison?) into the top of my closet from his squirt can, willy nilly, while he continued his stream of chatter.
At that point I asked him to leave. I had to ask him more than once. He stepped outside and called Barry. Barry called me and tried to convince me to let the guy back in — that he would coach him through a proper extermination on the telephone. He said, «People either love or hate this guy. His personality isn’t for everyone.»
I didn’t love being around that guy’s personality, but I assure you, it’s not why I ended our session. That was for the toilet brush.
Barry offered to come on Sunday (a couple of days later), his day off, to do the job since «his guy» wasn’t going to work out for me. Since my mattress was leaning against my bedroom wall, my house was a huge pile, and (most importantly) he had completely lost my trust by sending the least impressive subcontractor imaginable, I thanked him but passed on the offer. And I called someone else.
Maybe if Barry himself shows up the experience is better. But I wouldn’t know.