A Cleaning Lady- updated 4-12-17

Chapter The Cleaning Lady

Julie was assisting me with the legal aspects involving my parenting time with my kids, and also helped me along in my pursuit of my Social Security benefits and medical needs. Living with her allowed me to need less assistance, since I was closer to all of the doctors and professionals that I needed to deal with. This also put me within reach of those persons, though dysfunctional, who supported me as an artist, keeping me in the social circles that met my diverse needs.

Danimal and I performed property management for many landlords, Bruce included. Bob was also game, only because no one else could stand to work for him, always having to play his twisted head games, which I knew but I was using him for the money, and to get away from the everyday things I was doing- sometimes, needing a change.

Luckily, I had the ability to let it roll off of my shoulders, which really got under his skin. It only made me laugh and pity him when I saw how hard he worked, and how upset he would get, while trying to upset me- though not in his face.

It was later that it would take affect, when I was home to feel the pain I denied him to see.

There were a few personal clients that held me in exclusivity for their home repair needs but not enough to keep me busy with them full time. One such person was an elderly Latina lady. We met by way of her daughter, when she had applied for a cleaning position at Julies/our house. For some reason Julie thought it would be a good idea to hire a cleaning lady.

This was a ploy to get me to shut up about things but when she found out that cleaning didn’t involve doing dishes, laundry, and cat boxes, like I had explained to her, the whole thing was pointless. And she was left to stew in her own juices.

Face it, if you wash dishes and do the laundry, why wouldn’t you clean the toilet and vacuum? Telling myself that enduring this was necessary for my children to understand that they were loved, and that the distance between us was circumstantial, kept me pushing onward.

Nothing would keep me from my goals of getting my kids back, getting my disability insurance, never having to fear being sent to prison for four years for child support again, the "child support remedy act." Now, I was working at gaining my independence and security, and in a large sense, my freedom.

The woman who had applied for the cleaning position had taken a shine to me, giving me her mothers address because she needed some repairs done to her home that couldn’t be delayed any longer. The floor needed linoleum in the kitchen, hall and utility room, and there was damage to doorways from a nephew with psychological issues- and a cocaine habit.

The home, because of the wear, looked like it was long abandoned by squatters. She gave me the job but it wasn’t until about two days into it that she revealed that there was a flooring supply company that had given her a quote that was much more expensive. When it came time to pick up the goods, I went to a carpet and flooring store on the northern end of Alpine avenue to do so.

What I learned was that, these were condescending, and unfriendly people. This was indicated when I questioned why they had so many reducers in the material package. They were obviously hoping to do the installation. When I got to the installation part of the process, I found out that the material was short of the length needed. It was apparent that they were going to put seams in four places, which was unacceptable- to me.

It didn’t help relations any when I called to express my sentiments regarding every seam taking life expectancy from the product. These were high traffic areas, dining room, kitchen, hallway into the laundry and half bathroom, as well as leading into the garage.

They denied any wrong-doing, only to add remarks to the affect of me being an under-bidder and a cutthroat, which are fighting words in the construction business.

The truth was that they were over-charging her on goods and services, intending to hack the install in order to skimp on the product and the challenge of the installation, which only sets her up for repeat business a lot sooner.

Had they been kinder to me as a tradesman, they may have gained an asset.

Winning the battle against them was a moot point but winning the battle with the installation, using my problem solving skills, was especially satisfying. It was doubly satisfying when they later paid the homeowner a visit for a follow-up in the name of customer service.

Success is always the best revenge, (which I have to keep reminding myself while I write this effort), so there was no need to fire back at them over it. They saw that I laid the goods intact where it mattered the most, placing the seams in the least area of traffic.

The cleaning lady had quite a bit different game in mind for
me. This involved getting me to her Sparta home, under the guise of giving her a price to tear up and replace carpeting and linoleum in the kitchen, living room, hall and bathroom, as well as paint three rooms which included her bedroom. In the interest of developing a word-of-mouth customer base, I couldn’t refuse to look into it.

The true extent of what she wanted wouldn’t be fully known until I got there.

It felt like a good Idea to take a buffer, so I brought Larry along for the look-see. Since he was also a skilled painter, who worked regularly, I thought he could give a better perspective of what the cost of painting would be, while I surveyed the rest. The reason, primarily, (other than the premonition), was the fact that I was disabled in 96, causing me to e removed from the skilled trades, which made me out of touch with the current market.

 What we found was a rat's nest of a ranch style home. The place was rank with animal wastes- both kinds, fresh and stale.

She had recently vacuumed, indicated by the smell of burnt rubber, improving the room. She was surprised that I had brought someone with me, judging by an exuded nervousness about her.

Showing me the areas of interest, she slowly coaxed me into her bedroom.

The bed was made in an interesting contrast, way out of sorts with the rest of the house. Her motives set in as she planted the seeds she intended to germinate in my imagination.

Instinct told me to bring Larry as a buffer, and boy, was I right! It would have been so much more comforting to be wrong even though there were more horrors than just that.

There were tables at the ends of the sofa and in the opposite corners of the room, harboring neatly squared off piles of poop, some white from age, some with globs of hair, some mutli-colored with tiny maggots on them.


Even a blind cleaning lady could have seen. How can you not feel the tapping on the vacuum as you moved it into them?

There were roach carcasses left from completing their cycle of life.

This could have easily been a stage, set-up for a horror film- "Walking Dead," even. Larry and I kept glimpsing at each other with screaming eyes. How could this be a cleaning lady?

A flash of setting up on a future job with the stench from her hovel radiating from our drop cloths and tool kits, scrambled through my mind.
My imagination came up with the call that I would receive, saying that they now had an unusual roach problem, which caused me to reach for my cell phone as if it had vibrated.

Faking a call, I declared a plumbing emergency across town.

There were several calls from her for the next two weeks that
all went to my voicemail. Thank god for today's cell-phone technology.

Strangely enough, I cannot become intimate with someone in the presence of cleaning supplies... or cats- scarred upon scarred. I'm definitely damaged goods, unless You have Oregano.

Thanks for reading. Please feel free to read comments. I pay very close attention to my efforts. I am working on refinements. Keep in mind these are mostly rough drafts, and will become to be much more colorful and dramatic. I know how to paint.   -Zach 4-12-2017