Nightmare Pools: True Stories from the Route

 Every pool pro learns that not all accounts are created equal. Some pools simply cost more than they pay, not just in time and chemicals but in safety, stress, and reputation. This episode explores the practical art of saying no: declining dangerous dog yards, refusing green pools with failing equipment, and avoiding seasonal debris traps that wreck profit. It also covers recognizing heavy-use residential pools that behave like commercial sites and how to price or pass them before they sink your schedule. Along the way we share real stories, tools that help, and simple rules that keep your route lean and your business healthy.

Let’s start with safety. If a client warns their dog is “vicious but will be put away,” assume risk remains. Gates get left open, kids forget, and trained guard dogs can and do get out. Even a close call rattles focus and slows work. A pro should carry deterrents like pepper spray or an ultrasonic dog device, but the best defense is avoidance of accounts with attack-trained animals. One story shows how a quick-thinking hose-and-pole “shield” worked, but experience proves luck is not policy. Your business depends on reliable access and predictable conditions; a backyard that can turn hostile without notice is not a stable work site.

Next, consider the green pool that won’t turn. Plenty can be rehabbed, but a few conditions shout “walk away.” Start curbside: a car on cinder blocks, knee-high weeds, and a year-neglected basin predict a customer who resists needed repairs and proper run times. Then audit equipment: a filter patched with duct tape, compression fittings on brittle plumbing, and a loud, rusted pump are all dealbreakers. These systems often fail mid-cleanup, leading to blame, delays, and unpaid labor. If grids are patched or cartridges shot and the owner refuses replacements, you’ll chase clarity that never stabilizes. Quote high or pass; don’t donate your sanity to a swamp.

Trees can fool even veterans. A pool may look pristine out of season, but species like eucalyptus and jacaranda unleash debris cycles that can bury your schedule. Eucalyptus sheds bark and leaves into summer; jacaranda charms in spring, then rains petals followed by tiny leaves that clog everything. Oak pollen paints a yellow ring around tile in April and May. A windstorm multiplies the mess with dead canopy material. Build a mental (or printed) tree guide, audit the canopy, and price for the worst month, not the best week. If the client won’t align budget or expectations, let that “pretty shade” be someone else’s headache.

Heavy-use residential pools quietly mimic commercial loads. You show up at 8 a.m. to calm water, but afternoons bring 10 kids, sunscreen, and organics that devour chlorine and clog filters. The tells: constant cloudiness, toys strewn about, fast-loading filters, and towels everywhere. Standard weekly service won’t hold the line. Options include rate increases, added visits, enforcing run-time, and using enhancers. If the owner refuses cost or cooperation, replace the account. Short-term rentals and Airbnbs are even tougher: unpredictable bather load, urgent turnovers, and demands for off-day rescues without surcharges. Decline or set firm terms with premium pricing and standby visits.

These filters—safety, equipment, seasonality, and usage—protect margin and morale. The goal isn’t to avoid hard work; it’s to avoid bad bets. You trade a few risky accounts for stable, respectful clients who fund good service. Keep deterrents on hand but avoid attack dogs. Inspect equipment and decline taped-together systems. Learn the trees, price for peak debris, and be ready to walk. Identify commercial-level usage, adjust the plan and rate, or exit cleanly. The discipline to say no is a service to your best customers and the foundation of a route you actually want to run.