roadtrip with ping: disaster area

There is no way you can really warn someone how it feels to land in a destroyed and desolate town. It wasn't much to begin with—maybe 50 people and a cafe—and now it is a disaster. That's the ruined cafe across from the Goose. Maybe five people live in town. Well, now six, with me here.
  Ping was in shock. Culture shock and just plain shock. Terrified by the street dog, worried about crime, afraid of the strange people. And inside my place was worse.
  From a beautiful oasis, the Goose had been wiped out by seven feet of water. Last summer I hastily replumbed and electrified, put in a kitchen and bathroom and had to leave. Almost a year later, I couldn't really remember what had been done and not done. I did know I had asked the phone company to hook me up the month before.
   But of course the phone didn't work. DSL seemed to be on, but I couldn't remember my password, so Ping couldn't get on line. The place was supposed to have been cleaned, but it was still pretty dirty. I hadn't realized Ping was a bit OCD about cleanliness.  Aaand, the AC wasn't working. Ping was very unhappy. And that was before the flea bites.