Six Hours In Hell

, , , , , | Right | June 16, 2018

(I clean houses for extra money. As I live on the coast, a lot of them are holiday lets, but this is a domestic clean. The “lady” of the house rings me and asks if I can clean her house twice a week.)

Lady: “I reckon it will take about six hours.”

Me: *thinking* “Does she live in Buckingham Palace? An average house takes about two hours to clean.” *saying* “Okay, I will pop round and see you!”

(I get the address and am greeted by two four-wheel drives on the driveway, which already gives me an impression of whom I am dealing with.)

Me: “Hi! I am the cleaner.”

Lady: “Yes. In here.”

(I walk into a kitchen that is an absolute mess and stank of dogs and cigarettes. I smoke, but this makes my eyes water.)

Me: “So, what is it you wanted?”

Lady: “Well, I want somebody here for six hours and I want them to do…” *she takes me round the house and it is obvious she just wants somebody to boss around* “…and I don’t want to be their friend, and I want to be able to sack them when I want.”

Me: “Okay, what days did you want?”

Lady: “Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Me: “Oh, no! I am booked up on those days.”

(I got out quick. I still drive past that house and wonder if she ever did get a cleaner that would spend six hours in that smell and would be sacked at whim. And it still makes me chuckle.)

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