Ode to the Cleaning Lady
filed in Uncategorized on Apr.25, 2001
O Cleaning Lady, why do you tease me so with your minestrone-cigarette perfume, wafting through the room as you slide your vaccuum under my chair.
Your voice, like a mix of mumble and shout, Strikes deep in my heart!
Cleaning Lady, why do you give me such disdainful looks? Am I only misreading your toothless gaze?
Tell me how to act around you, Cleaning Lady I’m ashamed to ignore you, too embarassed to stare.
I see the knowing looks you exchange with your assistant I imagine the illicit affair you have in the custodial closet.
I sometimes imagine that you are more than a Cleaning Lady That you are really a spy from Verizon Wireless, here to steal our secrets.
O Cleaning Lady, come with me and we will run away together To a land where there is no trash to be emptied, no toilets to be cleaned Only me, and you, my beloved Cleaning Lady.

April 25th, 2001 on 2:12 am
Ewwwwwwww *shudders*
April 25th, 2001 on 9:32 am
hahaha…
right before my job ditched me they had hired a new maintenance man…
oh the decisive way he installed those air conditioning units…the way his muscled rippled when he fixed the faulty plumbing…
oh to stroke that bristle-y little moustache…
oh the pain of unrequited love!
April 25th, 2001 on 11:05 am
*Ben Stien voice* wow…
April 25th, 2001 on 6:24 pm
I prefer the gas station attendents with the greasy hair and chunks of dandruff. The beer belly from Bud light. Yellowed teeth from smoking. Theres a man for me. *sigh*