Dear Diary, of Cleaning

The Diary of the Lady Who Cleans Your Hotel Room When You Are Not There

Dear Diary,

      Today I cleaned many hotel rooms. I love my job so very much, because it gives me the right to snoop around peoples' things, rummage through toiletry kits, and touch things. The best thing about my job, aside from the chocolates I carry around in my cart and the shampoos, is that I can rearrange absolutely everything--and even sometimes get tipped for it. I don't know if I just like to be super organized and a control freak when people can't argue with me, but I simply love straightening rooms. Today, I went into Jordan's hotel room and took the liberty of rearranging her toothbrush for her! I'm certain that she appreciates that I combed every bristle of the toothbrush with my dirty fingers, and that I tipped her contact case the wrong way and folded the toilet paper so nicely that she feels guilty ripping it off. I was also so polite as to carefully place her dirty tennis clothes, which she'd left in a tidy heap on the floor, on top of her even-more-dirty suitcase, with her intimate apparel meticulously spread out on top of the entire display. I can only imagine--being shocked at it, of course--her horror at the arrangement of her clothing, upon a traveler's pedestal in the center of the room. I also have a fascination with the contents of peoples’ toiletry bags. Today, I removed all the contents of Jordan’s mother’s toiletry bag and vigilantly put each item upon a white washcloth, so that she might thank me for arranging her toilette in such an original way; I put her tooth brush side-by-side with her hairbrush (I always love it when the bristles are on top of each other—it’s so much more sanitary!), I put her lotion samples upside down so they’d only leak a little bit, I hid her make-up brushes behind the Kleenex box, I stowed her lipsticks beside the toothpaste and shampoo bottle, and I successfully covered the entire counter until it looked like a cornucopia of beauty and skin products. Of course, I didn’t stop there—I would never! I proceeded to bury all of Jordan’s schoolwork beneath the crappy local newspaper, and I left a thoughtful generic note of “do you really want to feel like a tree-murderer and environment-slayer? You shouldn’t be such a wasteful, slimeballing pig who requires their towels to be exchanged—at the expense of drinking water for the rare Coloradan River blond-hare—a whopping two times a week. Also, if your selfish consumer self would think for once of this hotel and the money we would save by only washing your towels once a week, you wouldn’t mind this note at all… Hope you enjoy your stay here with us!”

Sincerely,

The Lady Who Comes To Your Room Twenty Minutes After You Call Housekeeping