Sunday, March 1, 2009


I remember a few of the mind-numbing jobs I took to make ends meet. The custodial stuff was the worst: cleaning shit off toilet seats (and mirrors, if you can imagine); unplugging johns; toting out the garbage; washing and waxing floors. At the end of every shift came the sinking feeling that you'd be back at it again the next day, performing the same tasks, accomplishing little and taking home less.

Although I'm a caretaker of a different sort now, the end product of both jobs seems virtually the same. A spiffed up toilet is every bit as useful as a child who can't be taught -- more so, my colleagues might say. (And I daresay the porcelain will have a longer lifespan than some of these kids.) On the plus side, the pay is much better.

The toilets and the mirrors had no say. The kids do... but they're saying no. (Actually, they're saying 'fuck you' and throwing chairs. But you get the drift.)

Still, there are a few who take a coat of wax and buff up just fine. They're mostly girls. The boys are in the dumper writing shit on the mirror.

No comments: