Not long ago, an irate customer expressed his displeasure with the tiny Cabazon Water District by dropping a live rattlesnake through the mail slot.
"It was pretty good size, too, slithered right under the desk," said R.D. Cash, president of the water board.
A thick pane of glass, dubbed "the rattle trap," was swiftly installed over the slot to prevent any further reptile deliveries.
"No matter what you do, you'll always have irate customers," Cash said.
Snakes in the mail are just one of the perils faced by the water district, housed in an old fruit stand along Main Street.
Thousands of dollars of equipment have been stolen, vandalism has been rife, and business is conducted from behind a barred, bulletproof window.
The quarters are laughably cramped, and staffing is exceptionally light.
"I'm it," said water district manager Calvin Louie, a former police officer and the sole full-time employee. "I'm a one-man band. And if I don't do my job, it's kind of noticeable. People turn on their water and nothing comes out."
For more than half a century, the Cabazon Water District has persevered on a shoestring budget, managing by sheer grit to provide water to this hardscrabble, unincorporated community of 2,300 and a few life-sized dinosaurs near Palm Springs.
But a change is coming, one that will likely signal the end of an era.
A roomy $1.4-million, climate-controlled building, funded by Riverside County, is expected to go up in the next few years, replacing the current 800-square-foot office.
"The water district has been a master of innovation," said Andy Frost, a regional manager with the Riverside County Economic Development Agency. "But the old place is simply inadequate."
The 54-year-old block of beige stucco has hardly aged gracefully. The ceilings are low, the carpets tattered and stained. It's so small that hundreds of people have to line up outside each month to pay their bill at the window.
"It's easier to bring it in rather than mail it," said Randy Miller, 53, as he waited at the window in the blustery wind. "It's sort of a gathering place, and after a while you feel like you know the people."
The new facility will have an actual lobby so folks like Miller won't freeze in winter or melt in summer. But it won't come with any additional staff, at least not right away, so Louie expects to continue his extremely hands-on management style.
