bloodbourne

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So, last week, my entire flat was stricken with a similar sort of of stomach-bug-like virus. At roughly the middle of the week, each of us dropped to the ground in varying degrees of severity, the symptoms mainly involving massive fluid loss from either end of the body. It's a good thing we have three toilets, let me tell you.

As we all lay about the lounge, stricken, we attempted to parse together just what the hell it was that had afflicted us so. We all keep fairly different schedules so none of us cook meals together. Our living spaces are kept clean (indeed, in an important up-and-coming plot point, we have a cleaner that comes in every week), we couldn't figure out what it was. Were we not washing the chopping board? Was there something wrong with the dishwasher? Perhaps there was some mouldy bread in someone's cupboard? We raised and dismissed all the possible explanations, and eventually decided it was just some sort of particularly pernicious virus that could not only leap from person to person, but also hang out in the lounge drinking sodas for a few hours, waiting for someone else to come along.

At least, that was the leading theory until yesterday evening, when our cleaner came by. Our cleaner is sort of a holdover from the previous residents of the flat. A young Eastern European woman (not the same one each week, so I assume some kind of agency is involved) shows up at our flat. She doesn't speak any English, so our communication with her is generally limited to pointing at the rooms we want cleaned and giving her money. The thing is, we don't know where these people come from, like, we don't have the agency's number, or indeed know of any way to make them stop, other than like, not letting them in when they come round.

So it was difficult to communicate our outrage when we saw the cleaner come out of the toilet she had just immaculately cleaned and then begin to clean the kitchen

with


the


same


cloth

...

Oh.

Gross.

Soooo.....next week we're not letting her in when she rings the doorbell.

8 Comments

Mmmm... poopy.

Shudder.

Ring your letting agent and tell them the cleaner needs to be changed.

My cleaner is fantastic. I might love her.

Ye gods. Such decadence.

Surely YOU could clean the toilet and kitchen with the same cloth and save yourself some money!!!

Ohh, that's not the point, is it...

that's actually really really dangerous...you guys are probably lucky that you weren't more ill than that...crikey.

Then again... there's more germs in your mouth than there are in your bum.

Ugh indeed. Just remember that the next time you snog someone. Or the next time you err... never mind.

er...is that true about the germs (mouth/arse quantities of)...and if it is surely they're a different type of germ???

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    About this Entry

    This page contains a single entry by Danzor published on September 12, 2005 9:34 AM.

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