This was hard for me to write, I cant say I came to sit at my laptop easily. However, when a friend asks for a favour I am not one to shy away from adversary. Keep this in mind when you read the following words, they came to me slowly, pulled from the darkest depths of my memory, where I had hoped they would stay. But instead now the horrors will be yours as well. This is my story of 5 months of housekeeping in Banff…..
We watched people come and go, some carted off into the hospital for the insane whilst others couldn’t stomach the realisation that people, yes the average you and me people, are utterly disgusting, these left changed forever. Mothers and nurses are often praised for their ability to stand the worst a human body can expel, well working for minimum wage I now understand housekeepers are the true heroes. The three Ps, pee, puke and poop became our daily companions, and not always in the places you would most often realise. Too often we have pulled off sheets and gathered them into our arms to enjoy the still warm wetness of bedwetters. One kind drunken guest who spilled his prize whiskey in bed even left a note to make sure we would know “Its whiskey not Piss”, little did he know we had stopped caring of such things. Too often the toilet water hath splashed this face of mine, or rags and sponges fall in. I hesitate to share with how apathy leads to a one rag policy or a wet finger gets rid of most sticky marks. But in all honesty the guests enjoy the cleanest rooms in Banff. Thanks to our dedicated supervisor.
Now these guests how often did the simplest things trip them up, too often the lotion was in the shower used as conditioner or the fridge hidden behind cupboard doors, a puzzle too hard for one. But then our most argued item in the room, supposedly a shoe shine, or face cloth or hand puppet, a mystery we will never crack, they aren’t to blame.
Now let’s talk about sexy, baby. The walls of your rooms are thin, your baby oil and candles are obvious, but thanks for stealing a sheet from the cupboard to oil up with. Your birthday gift of a vibrator is odd, leaving in out on show even more odd. I’m not sure what it says about you, or your partner that this is your romantic birthday gift…. But it all boils down to we don’t mind, we are used to it now, and trust us in saying that what you think is strange or embarrassing, we have seen a thousand times before.
Now we have had some funny times and some perks, we love to play the tip or no tip game for any random placement of money in the room. If you request change my linens on a stayover on a Sunday with no tip so help me God. We watch the box of chocolates on your table every day we clean your stayover hoping that the day you checkout you leave it as a ray of sunshine in our day! We enjoy tea time in room 316 or 219, sat together in solidarity, the same 15 (“15”) mins of social time where we can talk to something other than our rags and hoover. More often not we are too weary and rather than intelligible conversation a mere, How many rooms left? And the staring at our phones drinking mint tea.
We try to scare each other, play find the flat pillow, chase through the halls, speak a language of DNDs, and bluecream and send whatsapp pictures of orange peel in a toilet bowl. It’s a small community of people who have banded together to make the best of a bad lot. We love our regulars, our special requests or anything which changes up the routine of the day.
We moan about finishing early but given the chance we run out the door! Our time was short but sweet and one which prompts the promise of I will always tip my housekeeper, at least whilst the terror of working in cleaning is still fresh in my mind at least!
But thank God the next adventure is coming for my german girls.