A Letter to the 11th Floor Cleaning Lady

Dear 11th Floor Cleaning Lady,

As nice as you are with your little Spanish accent and your curly black hair, you are screwing with my bodily universe.

I understand that life must be difficult for you. Technically, your position is a step down from that of a hotel cleaning lady. The contents of your cleaning bin do not catch the eye of passersby or hold precious little soaps from recognizable brands. Instead, you are forced to haul around a bright yellow roller cart with scratchy toilet paper and Aldi’s brand windex. Your co-workers do not giggle reminiscent of Blue Crush, but instead include a young Mexican who I often find reading the newspaper or stealing our company lunch’s leftovers. I feel for you, I really do.

However, do you have a time chart tracking my bodily functions? If you do not, I am honestly appalled. Because each time throughout the day that I have to pee, you are there. I cannot pee with you there. Stage fright always ensues. Each time you attempt to be kind and say, “It’s OK. You can go.” But I can’t, you just do not understand do you? The bathroom door is wide open, you are strolling throughout the stalls changing toilet paper and paper towel dispensers, things are clashing and crashing about…it is very stressful. Not to mention the fact that I know that anyone who walks in the office hallway during this time can hear me pee. That is straight up creepy and uncomfortable.

I must admit one more thing to you that may help you understand my predicament. I currently have an issue with our office receptionist. She no longer enjoys opening the office door for me due to my multiple bathroom breaks. And YOU ARE PART OF THIS PROBLEM. When I head to the bathroom and see you there, I walk right by. This means I still have to pee, yet the office receptionist thinks I already have. Don’t you see? She thinks I have a bladder control problem due to your incessant need to clean the 11th floor bathroom every time I have to go!

I am sure we can work something out. I have enjoyed our new found acquaintanceship and polite salutations. Maybe someday we can even share the “I know you nod.” But I ask you…no…beg you…when you see me approaching, take your cart and go.

Best wishes,

DW