5th April 2004, late evening | Comments (5)
Tucson, Arizona, USA ~ April, 2002.
Scene: Molly’s house.
Carmen The Maid came today, to give the house its weekly dust and polish. Not having had a cleaner before (not one I’ve paid anyway, eh mum?) I’ve no experience of the temptation to let everything go to ruin, knowing that in seven days someone will come and clear it all away again.
Molly and I had reached the point where the only clean dishes in the house were three soup spoons, a grapefruit segmenting tool and a turkey-baster. Shall I wash something up?
I’d ask, No,
Mol would say, Carmen comes in three days, she’ll do it then. Just improvise.
Today, thankfully, was Carmen Day, and before she arrived I wondered aloud if I should clear the table I worked at, so Carmen could clean it? No,
said Molly, Carmen can clean around anything, don’t worry about it.
That doesn’t sound like a very good thing to say about a cleaner, if you ask me.
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