At this point in my Weston Commercial Cleaning career, I've learned to deal with Special Operative frogs (LEAPers, i.e. Land, Earth, Air and Pond for those of you who have missed my nature sagas.) I've learned to differentiate between LEAPer Plasma Odor and Ooze Package land mines and the Dropped Off Out Killer Intestinal Exits bombs sent out by the frogs' airborne feathered friends. (The LEAPers often refer to them as the Chair Force, I've been told.) I'm able to clean up and face both dangers without a trace of fear or even a SLAG (Screaming Like A Girl), but I can't credit myself. It's the Weston Commercial Cleaning training that has turned me into this pool deck polishing warrior. (I've got some swampland down here in Florida to sell, too--if anyone's buying...)
At one of our properties, I clean an outdoor cabana with a bar, bar stools, a counter, and a sink. It also has a garbage can, a little refrigerator, and some cabinets. Once I'm done cleaning, I mop the cement floor inside the cabana.
Now, remember that I'm part of Weston Commercial Cleaning. I'm a "cleaning crew of one" and "cleaning strong." So when I mop that floor, I make sure to move the garbage can out of the way and reach every nook and cranny with that mop head.
I dragged my disinfectant and my mop bucket out to the pool deck and cleaned the cabana counter, bar, sink, and bar stools. Then I grabbed my mop and moved the garbage can so I could clean behind it and--
--a Trained Ninja Assassin Rat ran out from under the refrigerator and disappeared right before my eyes into the cabinets!
Just the sight of the rat put me well beyond SLAG.
I backed against the wall and opened my mouth, but no scream escaped. Instead I made this funny sound, like I was inhaling too much air. All I could think of was a doctor inserting a huge syringe full of rabies vaccine into my stomach. (Rats are fine. I don't like needles.)
After that, I entertained all the residents, who were relaxing at the pool, with my version of the infamous Heabie Jeabie Dance--which only a lucky few have ever seen.
Does anyone out there need an accountant?