Back in the summer of 2015, I am working at a nursing home where I am a housekeeper. Basically, my duties involve going into every resident’s room in my section to sweep, dust, mop, and clean the toilet, tile floor, shower, sink, and mirror.
This particular facility has four wings with twenty rooms each, and I have other miscellaneous duties that aren’t relevant to this story. If a resident has recently vacated, their room is given a “deep clean” to make the room available for a new resident as soon as possible.
The point is that it’s a lot of work to get through in an eight-hour shift, and while we housekeepers will have short conversations with the occasional guest or resident as we work, we don’t particularly have time to chat with random people.
One day, I am in the middle of a deep clean, scrubbing basically every surface of an empty room that I can manage. The cart I am using is in front of the open doorway to block it and to indicate that it is, in fact, not to be entered without good reason.
I am on my knees, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot on the floor — I make a conscious effort NOT to think about what certain stains may or may not be — when a pair of wingtip shoes comes into my vision.
This confuses me; as far as I have been concerned at this point, the fact that the cart is blocking the doorway should be a universal message: “Don’t come in; the room is being cleaned.”
I quickly run through the possibilities in my head of who these wingtips belong to, but none of the people who I think of would just rudely come into the room without at least announcing themselves. So, after only a second, I look up to see a stranger.
He looks friendly enough. He’s wearing a white shirt, tie, dress pants, and glasses — and, I notice, he has a Bible in one hand. The stranger opens his mouth to say something — I assume to introduce himself and start preaching about one thing or another — but I interrupt, and I’ll admit in hindsight that I could have been more diplomatic.
Me: “What are you doing in here?”
Stranger: *Pauses for a moment* “Oh, well, I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time—”
Me: *Interrupting again and pointing at the door* “No, you can’t. Get out.”
The stranger frowns at me here like a disappointed dad. I can tell, from personal experience of growing up in a Baptist God-fearing household, that I’m about to be lectured at best and browbeaten at worst. Southern politeness be d***ed, I am in no mood to give him the chance. So, I stand up.
I’m a six-foot-tall, 250-pound man and not exactly in the best of shape, but I can only guess that the stranger assumed I was a kindred spirit since he doesn’t seem to like that I’m not allowing him to treat me like some child.
Me: *Quietly* “With all due respect, I’m busy. I have a lot to do, and this is the last time I’m repeating myself: Get. Out. Of this room. Now.”
The stranger, obviously flustered, huffs, grumbles, and then stomps out of the room. I have the distinct feeling this won’t be the last I’ll hear of him, but I still go right back to work as soon as I push the cart he moved out from the doorway back to where I had it before.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, my supervisor politely knocks on the door frame, and when I look around to see him, I also see the stranger looking smug over his shoulder. Internally sighing, I stick my mop into the bucket and step up to my cart.
Me: *To [Supervisor]* “Yes, sir?”
Supervisor: “Hey, [My Name], I’ve been told by Mr. [Stranger] that you were rude to him, and he was insistent that I speak to you, ‘right now’.”
I take great care not to look at [Stranger] as I explain that I was in the process of deep-cleaning, and [Stranger] had walked in unannounced to try and preach at me. I neither deny my snappishness nor show any shame for what I said.
[Supervisor] nods along, not looking too surprised. I find out later that [Stranger] has a habit of stopping CNAs and nursing staff to give them long spiels about his faith, but this is the first time he has basically trespassed into a work zone. Somehow, this is the first time I’ve seen him; perhaps he usually keeps to a different wing of the facility.
After giving me a smile, [Supervisor] tells me to get back to work and politely but firmly escorts [Stranger] away. It isn’t until an hour later when I get on my break that I ask [Supervisor] what happened.
Apparently, [Stranger] was on his fourth last warning for bothering workers. The facility director was good friends with [Stranger] and his family, so [Stranger] often only got a finger-wagging and face-saving talking-to after all the times he was a nuisance. However, for reasons unknown to me, that director was recently replaced, and the new director is a stranger to [Stranger].
After the new director was given the story from [Supervisor], corroborated by the hallway security camera showing [Stranger] clearly walking up to my cart, looking into the room, and then moving the cart to go inside without permission, only to stomp back outside a minute later and nearly run into an old woman on crutches, [Stranger] was promptly banned from the facility, with threats of police if he was seen on the property again, and was escorted out of the building.
Supervisor: “He tried to get me to punish you for being rude to him, but — and [New Director] agreed with me — if I had been in your shoes, I’d have probably said a lot worse than ‘Get out.’ I did finally get a chance to speak my mind, though, when [New Director] gave me permission.”
Me: “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear.”
I personally think it should be noted here that [Supervisor] is a very kind man, though he can be tough when needed. He resembles a young Steve Harvey, complete with mustache, and has arms like a prime Mike Tyson. To this day, I don’t know what [Supervisor]’s backstory is, but he said something to me that has stuck with me, almost ten years later.
Supervisor: *Smiling with very white teeth* “You ain’t gotta cuss a man out to say something that cuts deep, [My Name]. Sometimes you just gotta tell it how it is and say what somebody needs to hear, especially if they don’t like it. And I said exactly what I needed to say to [Stranger] when I got my chance. He left without a peep.”
He never elaborated on what exactly he’d said to [Stranger], but from what I heard from the receptionist who saw him leave with security, he was “rather spooked”.
I never saw [Stranger] again, and I can only hope he learned his lesson.
