Thursday, 10 February 2011

Upright like a hoover

She was a regular cleaner as upright as her hoover. She told herself this as she unbuttoned her coat to check for her keys before leaving. Too many pockets. Where had she put them? Not in there. It was a fashion pocket...a useless detail but just the right size for a condom. He was a newer client. Once a week on a Tuesday. It was her third week and things had become...hard to say....was it messy, sticky or just fine. Actually, it was all of the above.

His last maid was called Helga. Classic. She was all about potatoes and hygiene. She had more whiskers than his cat. He didn't dislike her, but he didn't get a fresh feeling either. She was tremendously German. "Will you be receiving your primary partner this evening?" she asked. "Receiving what?" She had begun referring to his girlfriend as his primary partner after finding some knickers that were not her size stuck between the headboard and the mattress. Primary.... It made him feel ape like. She knew more about him than his own underwear.

"In this case, I have taken care to remove your....magazines to a more discreet location." Her meticulous discretion was the last straw. No matter where he left them, they were always refiled in chronological order. He had to wonder how long that took her. He meant to tell her that a simple stack would be just fine, but it was a sticky subject. He chuckled to think of her applying for a librarian position and siting "alphabetizing Oui and Hustler." as one of her skills. She was cleaning the underside of his nails with a steak knife. His girlfriend knew about his magazines. She read them like bedtime stories.

There were twenty odd names on the buzzer. She couldn't recall his name immediately as, in her mind, she referred to him as Mr. Culture. He had programs from every form of entertainment strewn across the living room floor along with socks, tights, and wine glasses. He was not the sort to tidy up before the maid came.  Everything was left out. She pieced him together from the various detritus she found and smelled his suits. She'd only met him briefly.

He'd only met her briefly. She came highly recommended from a friend at work who said he fantasized about her daily. That'll do for me. Who cares if she cleans. I've got a cleaner.

She appeared in a very white cotton dress. He was imagining a nurse's cap on her head as he spoke with her. She had been speaking for some time. She knew about how to carefully dust keyboards, how to leave no streaks on windows, and how often certain things needed to be serviced. Hmm. That woke him up. She stopped talking. She must have asked a question. Her voice had floated all the way down to his groin. It had hypnotized him ever so slightly. 

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