First let me say that the woman who cleans my apartment is a great person. A warm and lovely woman from Poland. To protect her identity we'll call her Krakovia.
Krakovia is kind, with an easy, if sad, smile. (The Polish are a proud and beautiful people - but wedged as they are between Germany and the former Soviet Union, they've suffered dearly. They wear their history on their faces.) Krakovia is empathetic. When she asks how I'm doing, she really wants to know.
She's been with me for two years. I don't know much about her. She's made a few trips to Florida during our time together and tans quite easily. (I'd always assumed that Lech Walesa and the other shipyard workers in the Solidarity movement were pale for genetic reasons. But based on Krakovia's savage tan, I've revised my opinion: It must simply be that Gdansk is overcast.)
Currently she comes in the morning, once every two weeks on Thursday. If I'm not rushing out of the apartment to catch a plane for Chicago for Wait Wait ... Don't Tell Me!, I'm usually still in my pajamas eating oatmeal and trying to figure out a blog topic. On Krakovia mornings, I always make sure to wear briefs underneath my pajama pants, so that my schlong doesn't accidentally peak out my jammies. And I brush my teeth so that I don't offend Krakovia. (A couple years ago, I walked out of the bathroom with just a towel, and Krakovia blushed and averted her gaze. I was embarrassed by my own lack of decorum. My mother would have been furious with me.)
Everything seemed to be going well until a couple months ago when I started noticing ... things.
Krakovia isn't –maybe never has – mopped the bathroom floor with a cleaning solution. As readers of this blog know, I don't make a mess. But I also walk with shoes on the bathroom floor. So the floor needs to be cleaned properly. I don't need to install a Krakovia-cam to tell you that she's wetting some paper towels, putting them on the floor and shuffling her feet around. That doesn't cut it.
Still in the bathroom: This last Thursday she didn't launder my bath towel and bathmat, which I hang over my shower rod. Yes they look neat hanging there. But that doesn't mean they're clean. This time they weren't.
Otherwise Krakovia does the laundry and folds well – except when it comes to socks. I clearly prefer my socks to be folded only at the tops, so that the feet dangle separately. (What I call the conjoined twin style.) Krakovia can see this by looking at the clean pairs in my socks compartment. Yet she insists on balling the socks, one engulfed inside the other. Of course the outer sock end ups getting stretched out. I now wait until Krakovia leaves to un-ball each pair and conjoin them.
My happily conjoined socks. (In the background is my bust
of Grover Cleveland.)
My balled socks.
Then there's the living room, where I write. Krakovia mops the floor, yes, though I'm not sure she uses a cleaning solution here either. Plus she doesn't mop under the sofa or move the piles of books I leave on the floor. (I know that's lame of me.) Overall there's a lot of dust in the living room.
"Someone" forgot to wash the gray (make that dust!) out
of Grover's hair.
The kitchen is a cinch: I've never used my oven. Not once. So she just needs to clean the floor and wash some dishes. But she's slacked off even here. My hardworking Hamilton blender still smells like banana after she "cleans" it. (I blend a lot of bananas and protein powder.) And the carriage of the blender is never windexed. After this last visit, it still had banana shmutz on it. Yuck.
Finally there's my terrace. A couple weeks ago, some lowlifes were smoking on my building's rooftop and flicked their butts on to the street - or so they thought. They ended up littering my terrace. It's gross. One even got into one of my plants.
Not that Krakovia would know. This past Thursday she didn't set foot on my terrace!
So why don't I just sit down with Krakovia on my dusty couch and tell her what's on my mind? Fair question.
I don't like confrontations. (Yes, it's something I'm working on with Dr. Saguaro.) I like that Krakovia feels comfortable with me. I've never shown disapproval and now that we've been together for two years, I find it harder than ever to suddenly be the boss.
Believe me, I've rehearsed the speech I know I should deliver to her – delineating her shortcomings and my demands – but I end up feeling petty. (Why am I not doing my own damn cleaning?) I also start to worry about recriminations from Krakovia:
"You want I mop bathroom floor with soap and pick up cigarette butts?" she snarls.
"Um, well, yes," I say, my voice halting.
"You must choose," she snaps back.
"Oh, for chrissakes, Kravokia!" I lash out. "I'm not Sophie and I'm not making any choice here. You do both!"
"Then you have to pay!"
(It's an ugly exchange and one that makes me less than proud. It also violates Dr. Saguaro's mandate that I be "appropriately assertive.")
Full disclosure: I pay Krakovia $100 for about two and a half hours of work. I don't think I'm being cheap. I've never used my oven. Dammit, what I'm asking for is not that hard! I'm getting mad just writing this.
Of course I'm more frustrated with myself for not knowing how to fix my relationship with Krakovia. After Krakovia left ("See you Thursday after next, Mr. Mo!") I resigned myself to breaking up with Krakovia by leaving her a message canceling her next visit, then never calling back to reschedule. Unhealthy, I know, and nonsensical considering I was so concerned about her feelings.
But then I had lunch with my agent Dan. (He took me to a diner, when I was kind of expecting an actual restaurant. Whatever.) He could tell I was frazzled, and I told him what was going on with Krakovia. He thinks the relationship can be saved. His very rational advice:
I need to separate the two issues. The folding of socks is a simple personal preference. Krakovia isn't doing anything wrong here. Millions of decent law-abiding people like their socks balled up. Telling her that I happen to prefer my socks Siamese-style isn't going to upset her. I could say it very casually, as I'm passing into the kitchen to leave my oatmeal bowl in the sink: "Oh, Krakovia. The laundry looks great. But would you mind conjoining my socks instead of balling them? Thanks!" Simple enough.
But then there are the grievances that have to do with fundamental cleaning lady responsibilities – i.e., those charges that when leveled amount to charges of cleaning lady negligence. These are bound to put Krakovia on the defensive and in turn give me anxiety. She's at least as high-strung as I am and would likely worry that she'd been failing me for a while. She might even get angry at me for not being open with her these last few months.
Dan's advice is to be dispassionate as possible and stay positive: "Say to her, 'Krakovia, I appreciate all you do. But here's how I like my apartment cleaned." Then mention a cleaning solution for the bathroom floor, dusting in the living room, and cigarette removal from my azalea.
A cigarette butt in my azalea. (There's a hit country music
song in that sentence.)
Most importantly, he advised me to stay focused on the objective here: a cleaner apartment. Krakovia is here to perform a service. Fixating on the imagined negotiation and hurt feelings is a mistake. If I stay focused on getting a cleaner apartment, the relationship will right itself.
So maybe ... Krakovia and I won't break up.
What do you think? Am I the only person who's had these kinds of issues with service people?
Reader Comments ( Page 6 of 7)
76. I have a house with lots of tiles, I got 3 dogs, Im married to a wife that refuses to hold a broom let alone a mop. We do not have any children, every saturday maritsza comes to our house and spends 5 hours "cleaning", that is when shes not on her phone. And every saturday I promise myself that i will fire her. But I thought that it would not have been fair if I didnt give her a chance. So I just told her that if she didnt want the 70 bucks per week or $3640 per year that I could find another person to do the job correctly. Iam not going to give myself any stress over this, its simple if she is not doing a good job warn her, if she continues to do half ass work get rid her. Very simple.
MOE at 2:43AM on Sep 27th 2007
77. I'm worried about you Mo. You are totally backwards in those photos. Why, why why?! Is it compositional?
While your appeal as a writer/performer is firmly rooted in your over-the-top attention to detail, I would not want to work for you as a cleaning lady.
My advice? Say, "Hey Krak, I was watching 'America's Next Top Model' and Mister Jay was emphasizing the importance of folding socks in a top-conjoined fashion...like this" ::you show her the smiley pic of you above:: "I think I want to try it out for a while, cause he was dead on about leather pants. I should have trusted him."
On cleaning without cleanser... A friend of mine taught in Japan for 3 years. She told me that everyday at a certain time, all the students and teachers would get wet rags out of a water-filled rag bucket, and wipe everything down. But the weird thing is, they rarely ever laundered the rags... so they were just spreading germs around, creating moist, bacteria-thriving environments.
And what people have the longest lifespan?
themkickingpoe at 3:28AM on Sep 27th 2007
78. Aw Mo,
Needed to bang out a country song.
I left you all alone, I went to dinner.
Never thought you'd turn into a sinner.
I was gone quite awhile, overnight.
When I came home I saw this dreadful sight:
Butts on my Azalea, butts all over you!
Butts on my Azalea, Camel, Lark and True.
Didn't see this coming, missed by a minute or two.
Oh my dear Azalea, what's gotten into you, yeah.
To the tune of Lipstick on Your Collar.
Kimball '08
John Giza at 2:24PM on Sep 27th 2007
79. For someone who drinks lots of banana-protein shakes, Mo sure is skinny.
I like my socks balled up.
Jeremy at 4:02PM on Sep 27th 2007
80. Mo,
I am a fun, plant loving, dead president liking, neat freak myself. I'm a 35 year-old archaeologist who could use a few extra bucks and would be more than happy to offer my services!
Want your socks un-balled? No problem! Dust on your beloved prez? His head will shine like the sun. Want to walk around in your jammies? Who cares? I'm a mom, I've seen it all. You'll be pleased as punch, my friend.
I'll even throw in an accent for free...just to help with the transition.
Think on it...Rebecca
rebecca Lee at 4:21PM on Sep 27th 2007
81. Why we worry so much about what others think is insane, and are so scared to confront in real life but can do it so well in our heads....I'm taking comfort in the fact you're as neurotic as me Mo!
tracey at 5:21PM on Sep 27th 2007
82. first time ive read your blog.. and ive got to tell you, if you didnt already know..
youre gay.
not only gay.. but a spineless homosexual as well.
if youre going to be nuerotic, have your boyfriend clean your apartment and save your money.
im sorry.. but if youre cleaning lady isnt performing up to your standards, its up to you to say something. would you have such a problem commenting to the manager of an expensive restraunt that your Filet Mingion and Lobster wasnt cooked to your satisfaction? the fillet was dry.. and the lobster rubbery...? both SERIOUS issues where those 2 cuilinary delights are concerned!!!
or.. you sent your french toast back because it was alittle wet inside still.. and it came back smelling faintly of ass... im SURE you would complain to someone.... well maybe not.. if youre gay.. you might tip heavily and commit to eating there frequently...
its a PAID SERVICE... you have a right to certain REASONABLE expectations in the quality of the work you receive. it will take her exactly an extra 120 seconds to Pine-Sol and MOP your bathroom floor... it will take her exactly an additional 60 deconds to Windex off the outside of your appliance. not a big deal. folding your socks properly, so as to not stretch out and ruin your socks... a very reasonable request.. its not like she asked you how she was in bed after a night of blah sex... not a big deal.. wash Grovers hair!!! simple.. run him under the tub faucet when she cleans the tub.. give him his own tooth brush or a nice soft bristled hair brush.. and waaaaaaaaaaaaaalla.. Grover is pimpin' again... time needed.. maybe 300 seconds? total additional time invested... about 8 minutes or 480 seconds. wow.. 8 extra minutes.. and youre a happy man.
if she cant understand and grasp the basic fundamentals of properly cleaning to your "REASONABLE EXPECTATIONS" then turn her ass to cash and get a new cleaning lady... on the bright side.. if she doesnt steal from you.. that may be worth alittle forgiveness on a couple things...
im sorry, but its really minor. if you have this much problem with your basic PAID for relationship with your cleaning lady... its a wonder youre able to have any interpersonal relationships with ANYONE in your life.
testicals.. they are between your legs good Sir... reach down.. grab them.. give them a squeeze... feel the power.. I AM MAN!!!! now act like one...
ya dig? ;-)
Ray at 5:34PM on Sep 27th 2007
83. Good Lord Ray..... where did that rant come from? We all understand that when one gets paid for a service it is expected that said service is done. It has nothing whatso ever to do with whether or not Mo Hunny is gay or not gay. He has compassion and feelings and doest want to hurt Krakovia but at the same time he needs for her to be diligent in her work. And one does not run any type of art under a faucet. That would ruin Grovers head. Anyway Mo....just talk to Krakovia...she will understand and just might bake you some cookies in your unused oven...Lizzie
Lizzie at 7:04PM on Sep 27th 2007
84. Ray-
I've been searching all my life for a man who can spell Pine-Sol. You little coquette, you.
Mo Rocca at 7:11PM on Sep 27th 2007
85. Ray, my darling,
It's spelt T E S T I C L E S.
Use them. They're your friends.
If you ever speak to Mo (or anyone else, for that matter) this way again, you'll be picking up your teeth with broken fingers.
It's not an empty threat, mind you.
FREE BIRD!
Miguel Cane at 8:23PM on Sep 27th 2007
86. Wow, Ray. Very insightful and well articulated!
If only everyone would realize that the world is just as simple as you see it...
Had I some testicals, I would grab them right now to salute you, sir. Your name suits you.... a ray of light in this crazy, mixed-up world.
I will never forget you, Ray. Never.
themkickingpoe at 9:53PM on Sep 27th 2007
87. Ray,
I've been cleaning my Hillary bobblehead with warm, soapy water and a toothbrush.
Should I just be running her under tap water and saving, oh, how many seconds?
Oops, gotta go, my filet mangione is burning.
John Giza at 11:10AM on Sep 28th 2007
88. Mo, You should be ashamed of yourself. You should be grateful that someone puts up with your sorry ass! If you don't like something she is doing, tell her and ask her to do it your way in your house , it is that simple! To put this on your blog and whimper inconsolably is reprehesible! Time for a med check and to up your sessions to 5 times a week and to graduate from Dr. Saguaro to Dr. Prickly Pear. You need industrial strength humiliation and degradation to achieve a properly shame-filled life!
Todd at 10:25PM on Sep 28th 2007
89. Why do I feel a Polish joke in here somewhere? I'm Polish, don't you worry. Anyway, here's what you do if you insist of having someone else come in and clean your apartment (what's that about anyway?) - when you give her the money, put a nice note in an envelope with the cash (or check? money order? food stamps?) telling her that you appreciate what she's doing for you (Who LIKES cleaning after people?) however, "would you use cleaning solution on the floor, and check on the bushes outside to make sure they aren't full of cigarettes or animals or something." And perhaps tell her you will provide the cleaning materials for her, and maybe a small gift if she actually does it. You don't even have to confront her directly, just use the note to do the talking. Make sure you write on there "If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask!" You have to be nice to service people, because they really don't want to clean up after people who are too busy to use their oven. :)
angryrose at 2:53AM on Sep 29th 2007
90. are you serious? i think you're being way too picky and you should just be happy that you can afford a cleaning lady.
since you can afford it, but still complain like a girl.......quit wringing your hands about it and just talk to the lady already. if she doesn't get it then hire somebody else.
Slver at 1:11PM on Sep 29th 2007