I do not know under what category this is going to fit. I do not usually write about work stuff. I do not have a geeky job. I do not have an artistic job and frankly folding laundry in any hotel is about as interesting a thing to read about as watching grass grow during a drought. But somethings transcend the norm enough to merit a post. And today certainly has lit the fire of creative prose.
Sometime in the not too distant past, our humble little band of laundresses was asked to assume the mantel of Public Spaces Attendant. In addition to doing the laundry for the hotel and ironing linens for special events, we split our shifts cleaning the lobby, restrooms, fitness center, pool & spa and generally maintaining appearances. And it has been my special joy, of late, to have the Worst Morning Shifts Ever. For the last month I've walked into the public restrooms to find plugged toilets and seat liner confetti strewn about the place like Buggy Bunny had lead a ticker tape parade through the place. And it has been my special Joy of Joys to be far more intimate with our guests than even an Orion slave dancer* would care to be.
You see, before I even put my hand on door handle I knock and announce "housekeeping". I do this in the hopes that any one occupying the bathroom will prevent me from walking in to see a bare ass or dangling appendage hanging our by the urinals. The first time it happened was startlingly inappropriate. I was already in the bathroom and cleaning the urinals when a man walked in and
dropped trou right next to me before I could stammer an "excuse me" and race Han through the Kessel Run**.
Hellllllooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Woman cleaning the bathroom who is not your mother/sister/wife/girlfriend/friend with benies/FB/Bf/paid escort/maid!!!!!!!!!!!!! What are you people doing!?????????
Our management wants us to maintain a professional atmosphere while still making people feel right at home. I guess we win. It doesn't get any homier than peeing with the door open. But seriously!!!!!!! I have seen so many bare male asses and penises in the last month or so that I am seriously done even being remotely interested in male anatomy. BTW: the boyfriend thanks you for your commemorative "aw man that blows" to which I will snicker "he wishes". And.... as if the barrage of wankers at work is not enough, the good luck follows me everywhere.
The impetus for this ranting post comes from the coffee shop. 24 ounces of German Chocolate mocha can't hang out in my bladder as long as it used to. And there is little warning when the few ounces there want to be let out... like a cat at the butt crack of dawn. So I hopped up... gingerly picked my way through the swarm of patrons who descended on the place. I heard nothing but the snarl of espresso machine and the door was open. In bathroom parlance that means it is "un-occupado" or in the German, ungeschlossen. So as you would expect, all restraint and decorum evaporates under the pressure of an immanent containment leak (wow would that have been putting it mildly), and I burst through the door.
And there is a cute guy peeing!!!!
What the hell??? Was I the guy thousands of years ago who told the municipal governors in Londonium "We don't need no stinkin' public sanitation standards." ??? What the hell did I do in a past life or this one to see this ALL THE TIME!? Uggghhhhhh!!!!!
Sadly, my friends, my life has become a zoo in which the only exhibit is the baboon cage.
Which I guess could be worse. It could be a poop flinging monkey cage.
*its a Trek thing
** 12 parsecs+not enough for escape velocity.
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