“My name is Bella. I am a survivor wishing I lived in New York City. If there is anybody out there…anybody. Please. You are not alone. I can provide a shoulder to cry on. I can provide advice. I can provide solace. I will be at this blog everyday at different times during the day when the sun is high or low in the sky.”
Yes, my friends, this is one of those posts.
I thought it my civic duty to reach out to anyone who has gone through a similar situation and say, “Lets join in solidarity and bond over what we’ve gone through.”
That something would be…cleaning a bathroom that hasn’t been cleaned in two weeks and has only been used by men. In my case, two very filthy men.
Two weeks. I waited two weeks to see if either of them would accept the challenge of “Hey, anyone up for cleaning the little bathroom while I clean the big bathroom?”
Totally pissed that neither of them would come to my assistance, I decided to wait it out and see who was going to take the high road.
One and half weeks–zilch.
Two weeks–and I caved.
However, was I to know the horrors I was to witness, I would have waited it out one more week.
But let me tell you about it (in the event that any of you are preparing to undertake a mission similar to this one).
To begin with, wearing a Hazmat suit should have been compulsory and not optional.
It smelled like something had crawled into the toilet and died there, never to be flushed out again.
The toilet paper rolls? Non existent.
The bathroom mat? Curled up and practically wedged under the toilet.
The hand towel? On the floor where someone dropped it, hopefully after having washed his hands.
The hand soap? What hand soap?
The small magazine rack? Tipped over, magazines included.
The toilet brush? The only clean thing in there.
The toilet bowl? It would appear the Tidy Bowl man jumped ship on the second day, and is presumed to be treading water in the neighbor’s toilet.
The air freshener can? Also missing in action.
The plug-in air freshener? Unplugged and on the floor. I can only assume, keeping the magazine rack company.
The small trashcan? Filled to the brim with rubbish that included all the way from a half-eaten sandwich to a broken shoe lace.
The sink? WTF is the only thing I can say regarding the residues found there.
The medicine cabinet? House to three rusty rechargeable blades, two AA batteries, an old MP3 player, an empty tube of toothpaste, a dog collar, and a half-empty can of Dr. Scholl’s Odor Destroyer foot deodorant spray.
I was in hell. Nevertheless, I took to the task like Attila the Hun and emerged victorious 45 minutes later.
The solution to never having to undergo such a disgusting chore again?
Install a latch with a padlock.
In the event either of the gents wants to used the little bathroom, they are to request the key at reception.
Said key will only be released when some sort of personal item has been turned in as collateral. An exchange will be made when said key is returned.
Don’t you wish this solution were possible? But alas, we all know it’s a pipe dream.
All I can do is pray that the bathroom remains clean for at least two days.
After that time, I shall once again issue the challenge and see if there are any takers.
But what am I saying? We know this is a vicious cycle and that sometime in the near future you shall read another post similar to this one.