Good afternoon Critic,
I am writing this letter as I think I have some stories you would find interesting. I have been the sole cleaner for U-Bar for the last three years, and let me tell you – I have seen some shit. Being the cleaner has had both pros and cons, and now that I am graduating, it would be a shame not to share what I have seen.
It is probably best I do this in order of each bathroom, starting with the girls' accessible bathroom. Having been the cleaner for so long, it gets to the point where you are able to tell how bad the place is going to be the second you walk in. There are two main indicators: the smell of vomit and the amount of leaves trekked across the carpet. On this particular day, the intense scent of bile wafting up the stairs that descend to the bar told me today was going to be bad. As I made my rounds of the bathrooms, all seemed relatively normal until I reached the accessible bathroom, where the smell was the worst. The second I opened the door, the source became obvious. The porcelain sink was filled to the brim and completely heaped with vomit. I am unsure how a single person could possibly hold so much in their stomach, but it was a real feat of nature. The alternative to one person having that insane amount in their stomach is that someone vomited on top of another person's vomit, which is a terrifying possibility. It was made worse by the fact that whoever had powerchucked just as easily could have made it to the toilet, which was less than a metre away. Awesome.
The treasures of that bathroom don’t stop there. Just this year, press-on nail Cinderella stopped by for a pint. I was cleaning the bathroom when I noticed something bright red out of the corner of my eye. As I went to have a look, I noticed several more. On closer inspection, I realised someone had removed nine bright red press-on toenails. This led me to deduce that she had left just one on her foot. Mind you, you cannot get into U-Bar without closed-toed shoes, so she had taken her shoes and socks off to do this. Somewhere out there, there is a girl with just one bright red toenail. I hope she finds her Prince Charming.
For the main bathrooms, I think it is best to start with a warning. Ladies, if you are in U-Bar, and a man you have been dancing with goes to the bathroom: don’t touch him after that. I would like to advise everyone that the main men's bathrooms don’t have soap, nor do they have hand towels or porcelain sinks. This is because the second a man enters that bathroom charged off a few pints, they apparently lose all cognitive function and revert back to an early hominid. These boys have torn the soap dispensers off the walls and thrown the soap around so many times that cleaning staff gave up on putting them back. U-Bar men had a similar lack of restraint when it came to the hand towels, so they lost those too. I actually find it incredible that they still have access to toilet paper, considering their clear love to rip the toilet paper holders off the wall and either stuff the massive rolls into the toilet or just put them on the floor and piss all over them. It’s genuinely crazy. Even the toilets themselves are not safe – multiple have been cracked or smashed over the years. Between that and the single (largely decorative) drain that would occasionally lead to the bathroom being flooded with a couple of inches of water, things got pretty wet and wild – and not in a fun way.
If you think it stops there, you’d be sorely mistaken. Not only do these boys enjoy destroying every piece of sanitary equipment within a five metre radius, but they also enjoy defacing your beloved Pint Night glasses. More times than I can count, I have had to pull those glasses out of toilets and urinals entirely filled with urine. Rest assured, if your beer tastes like piss, blame that on drinking Summit Ultra. All piss cups are thrown out. However, outside of these stories, the boys are pretty predictable, and lack the iconic behaviour of the girls.
Speaking of, the girl's main bathroom has produced its fair share of environmental storytelling. Most notably, in my first six months on the job, I was cleaning the toilets and came across a mysterious piece of cloth stuffed down the back of one of the bowls. This turned out to be a pair of tightie-whities, with a large skid mark down the back half. How that ended up there is anyone's guess, and yours is as good as mine. However, besides this rather extreme find, the girls are usually pretty well behaved. In comparison to the lads, if a toilet roll holder is ever found open, they will simply put the roll to the side to be reused. The guys could learn from this – that’s a far better spot for them than in the plumbing system.
You might wonder why I kept the job all these years. Look, U-Bar is not a nice place to clean. When I got hired, they told me nobody had ever stayed for more than six months. But I’m not someone that cares too much about gross things or gets queasy, and I had all the safety gear to do the job. It paid well, I could listen to music, and it was flexible work. I only had to come in the day after, and make sure I got things cleaned up before 5pm. Plus, if anything was too gross, my manager would come and deal with it for me. Overall, it was a really sweet deal.
If you feel completely grossed out by U-Bar now, I’m sorry. Everything is wiped down with strong cleaning agents, and I know I did a good job, but I wouldn't go around licking any walls. Also, FYI, the dancefloor carpet is supposed to be blue. No matter how many times I go over it with a carpet cleaner, it remains black. No matter how many times I mop the lino, it remains sticky. I gave up on the couches. They’ve been chucked out now, but if you ever sat on one of those, I’d get checked.
I guess I just thought I would share, as these stories have gotten a few laughs out of my mates over the years. I also would like everyone to remember that every time you hit up Pint Night and piss all over the floor, keep in mind there is someone who has to clean that up. The things that I have witnessed will stick in my mind almost as stubbornly as the cheese toastie I found mashed into the carpet one time.
Thank you,
The Cleaner
