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the downtown tower i work in is, thankfully, very regimented about their bathrooms and because of this they are consistently very clean and well supplied. to maintain this standard they send cleaning guys around three to four times a day. i often pass by them while attending to my own three to four times a day duties and am always intrigued by the mechanical process in which they perform this task.
their methods are precise and systematic. if you remove the chore at hand one may call it some modern form of interpretive dance. that is until the shockingly jolly fellow walks along the galley of toilets and begins his repetitive review. he slaps the first door open, peers in, checks the toilet paper, wipes the seat, all good. he slaps the second door open, peers in, checks the toilet paper, wipes the seat, all good. he slaps the third door open, peers in and stumbles backward shielding the lower part of his face with his forearm and exclaims "oh, for the love of christ!"
so much for high art.
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