So I fired the cleaning service today. One of the benefits of corporate housing is that once a week you get a clean service, similar to that in a hotel. Well, I stayed home sick and was here when they came to clean.
Picture this: you’re sitting on the couch, reading through some SD pages stored in you Temporary Internet Files that you didn’t have a chance to read last night and you look over your shoulder at the woman cleaning your bathroom as she takes one of the dirty towels out of her bag, dips it in the toilet and proceeds to wipe down your bathroom with it! I’m not making this up.
Every Thursday they come and swap out the towels and linen and clean the bathroom and kitchen and are supposed to vacuum (but that only happens every coupla’ weeks, unless I call to complain). This woman used one of the dirty towels to clean my apartment. I was aghast. I didn’t say anything to her, I mean, what was I going to say, really “Um, excuse me, but did you just use toilet water to wipe and rinse my sink?” I saw her do it, for Petes sake!
And another thing: when she walked in, my cats ran to hide from her. My cats never hide from anyone. Never. They love people. One will follow you around like a shadow and the other is your second lap. When this woman walked in the door, they bolted. I started looking for them and they were not to be found. As I sat on my bed to put on shoes thinking maybe they had snuck out (since this woman frequently left the door open), I heard their tags jingle. They had ripped open a hole in the box-spring and had climbed inside They don’t had claws, so I had no idea how they did this. My loving, friendly kittens were terrified of the cleaning people, and I’m left wondering why.
The moment she left, I got dressed (I had been in PJ’s and a sweatshirt) and headed to the relocation company’s office to complain. They were shocked as I told them what happened. They called the team leader to tell her what the girl had done and then assured me it would be taken care of. “I don’t think so,” thought I, so, quite bluntly, I said “I don’t want them in my apartment again. I have to go back and clean everything now, because everything is suspect and I don’t dare touch any of the counters or surfaces! I don’t want them cleaning my apartment.” Again, they apologized and offered me some cleaning supplies. They also offered this thin reasoning for the toilet dipping: it seems they have this super-duper cleaning liquid that kills just about everything it touches and they claim that is what she put in the water before using. Personally, I don’t care if they drained the bowl, scrubbed it with lye and filled it with Perrier, it’s a toilet and I don’t want the container for your “cleaning solution” to be the same thing I use to rid myself of bodily waste, you stupid cow.
Bob and Tom, a morning radio show, played this sound bite a year or so ago about the irradiation of food to kill animal feces that might be on it: “If you irradiate poop, it will be sterile, but it will still be poop.” That’s all I could think of, I’ve got disinfected shit all over my counters.
And I wonder why I’ve been sick since I moved here.
[sub]I almost changed some text and made this a Pit rant, but, though I’m pissed off, I just didn’t for some reason[/sub]