There are SO many ways to take this conversation sideways....to a deep, dark place
but I'll just continue to enjoy the conversation.
I find it of interest (I know, another tale) because when I was small we lived in a rural work camp. The little houses each had a cylindrical, below ground, concrete "cesspool". Maybe 2' in diameter at most. Those things filled up and had to be emptied. How you may ask? With a coffee can on the end of a long piece of heavy wire then dumped into a bucket. At the earliest age my dad conscripted me to do the "emptying" - barely able to pull the coffee can out of the "hole". When the level dropped to where I couldn't reach it easily he grabbed my legs and let me "reach further". Afterward I was "treated" to a bath in an old steel tub. A fond "memory from the past".
And no, I no longer want to reach into, or stick my head "down there".