Cleaner Wanted


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August 15th 2010
Published: August 15th 2010
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Maggie is a little oldish lady, an ex-diplomat who has been everywhere but still adheres to scrupulously high standards of domestic cleanliness. She holidays with Gabriel and Gabriel with her. They are birdwatchers. As a couple, they are unlikely.

Gabriel's apartment is a filthy dump. Maggie arrives the next day. Gabriel gets drunk to get in the mood for cleaning and finds he isn't really in the mood. It's 6pm. He needs a cleaner. A cleaner in Funchal at dusk? Probably impossible. He certainly can't clean the place on his own. How about a whore? Whores do anything for money. Gabriel has a few more bargaçeira and makes for the docks where he has seen, but never partaken of, whores before.

Gabriel finds a whore. No sex, he explains, just cleaning. She tells him to fuck off. Why, does he think she is a whore? Precisely not to have to clean up after filthy pigs like Gabriel. How about a blow job?

He finds a younger, skinnier version. She inquires after his sanity. He points out the limited demand for whoring at this hour: she'll be back on the street when the rush begins. She wants 100€. Gabriel itemizes various depraved practices he could have for considerably less. She says they are more fun than scrubbing floors. They agree on 50€ and go back to his place, via a few more bargaçiera.

Back home she demands her 50€. You haven't done anything yet. It's is a cash in advance business. Gabriel doesn't have the money. ATM, says she, let's go.

50€ in her pocket and few hundred in his, they stop for a couple more bargaçiera. Her phone rings. An angry, slangy conversation ensues which Gabriel can't follow. Heading home again she points out an alleyway leading to the rocky shore where she used to play as a kid. Fabulous, says he. Let's look at the sunset, says she. Sure, says he. A few seconds later, five metres up the alley, he is lying penniless on the cobbles, having the shit kicked out him. He hears her say, OK, that's enough, he's a nice guy, don't kill him. As the whore and the pimp slope off, Gabriel croaks out a request for his ATM card to be returned as it is no use to them. Give it to him, she says. The pimp kicks Gabriel in the side of the head and sticks the card into his bleeding mouth.

Gabriel calls the police. He is the only foreigner ever to be mugged on Madeira. Does he really want to file a report? Does he really want to tell this story in court? Would he not be happier at home in a hot bath? He would. Jump on the back of the bike. The policeman takes him home.

Maggie arrives the next day. What happened to your face? My God, your apartment is a mess! Nothing more or less than I expect though. Where do you keep your cleaning things?

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