O.K. here I am, again. Figure it is time to let you know who I am, and why I started this.
I am a 50 some yr. old hotel housekeeper. I started this insanely difficult job, about 7 yrs ago, and I am still wondering how on earth I ever got to the point in life, where I would be scrubbing some strangers "glue Poo" out of various toilets.
This was certainly not the job I dreamed about growing up. I have had many other jobs, starting with my very favourite, Front Desk Clerk way back in the 70's at a newly built hotel, in a tiny little community on the North Coast of B.C. I went on to work in a copper mine, working for a short period as Post office clerk, and then in the warehouse on ledgers. I spent a year or two working in the local bank as a ledger keeper, long before computers, when every single penny had to be accounted for, and interest was paid on the smallest account. Then off to join the military for a short time as a Supply Technician. I floated back to the front desk job, was a Silviculture spacer, flagger, ambulance attendant,RCLegion Bar maid, Chevron Town pantry clerk, and then suddenly after all that, I reached the very bottom, Hotel Housekeeping staff!!
OMG!!! Until you spend some time cleaning up after absolute strangers, you have not seen it all. It is like we are assumed to be like the three monkeys, see no evil, hear no evil and speak no evil, with an addition, touch no evil.
No, we are not the law, therefore the ginormous "buds", hookas, assorted eating utensils (knives, forks and spoons) burnt black, white powder, ashtrays filled with roaches (no, not the crawling kind)are invisible. We learn not to empty "those" ashtrays. I have gone into a room, spied something in the corner, and with my blind as a bat eyes, immediately thought I would be picking up a doggie turd, only to get close enough to see it was simply the biggest "bud" I ever ran across.
Then the more "personal" items....pretty pastel, or "lite bright" dildos, propped up on side tables or King Kong sized ones sitting on bath tub ledges, which by right, should be moved and either wiped or dusted under, but....nope, not me, I am not going to reach out and touch items that have been up very close and personal with who knows who's private parts. I cringe and pull on the gloves to remove wads of toilet paper beside Costco sized "jerkin's"lotion. Tight curly hair in the tub and on the toilet seats, gross me out, and often refuse to be removed by one cloth, many times it takes two, and after a particularly nasty fight, I will resort to attacking these with "bathroom tissue".
Then there is the "glue poo" this is usually just a small dot , but somehow attaches to the toilet like crazy glue. Our weapons to remove this space aged crap, is a fluff ball toilet scrubber, much like a fuzzy Q-tip on a handle. Those itty bitty tiny dots will actually cause me to work up a sweat trying to remove. I. personally, would rather find an unflushed turdet, than that tiny brown speck. Oh, those unflushed turds, after sitting for about 3 hours with the lid closed, do not disappear, in case you wondered. Nope, upon entering a bathroom, and finding the toilet lid down, most of us know, immediately, that lifting that lid, will likely result in the vision of brown coloured liquid, wrapped up in soggy paper ( oh, the smell does not disappear, either). I know hotel rooms are not rented out to those under the age of 18, therefore, I have to speculate how many mothers did not teach their children toilet manners.
I expect there are some out there that would find this disgusting...well, trust me, housekeepers tend to find some of the most disgusting things in the world. So, now we get to the why. I have some stories to curl toes, regarding my job, and those I work for, have their share, as well. Some times we will entertain each other with our latest shocker. We work in a very small hotel, in a very small town, and know that out in the big world, there is a huge group of others like us, who likely have some incredible stories to tell. I have been pressured to start this, so that, with any luck, it will become a place, the diva's with dusters can get together and put these stories down in print.
Come on in...