Cleaning Service

Emily understood that she had to comply with the department manager's request, otherwise he would fire her immediately. And that would be the end of the promising career she had envisioned for herself. So she took the elevator down to the bottom floor and reported to the janitor. Meanwhile, she imagined what kind of person he would be. In her imagination, an old, sleazy guy was waiting for her, wearing overalls, rolled-up sleeves, with strong, hairy hands.

The elevator doors hissed open. And Emily stepped into a rather sobering reality. No underground corridors bathed in the dim light of flickering neon tubes. No rusty pipes along the concrete ceiling with indefinable liquids dripping from them.

She walked down a normal hallway, modern LEDs providing steady, warm light, until she reached the door with a sign that read “Gerhard Schramm - Facility Manager.”

The room was simple and impressive at the same time. None of the clichés Emily had expected were fulfilled. Mr. Schramm's workplace was more like the control center of a power plant than a janitor's workshop. On countless monitors, red, green, and yellow lights flashed between lines and boxes, while others displayed columns of numbers running from top to bottom or text messages.

“Hello, you must be Emily, the new intern.”

It was only when Mr. Schramm spoke to her that she realized she had been standing there with a gaping mouth. She liked the fact that he immediately switched to first-name terms. And his appearance also had nothing in common with the image she had had in her head. If she had met him somewhere else in the building, she would not have been able to distinguish him from her colleagues. His most striking feature were the gentle but attentive blue eyes with which he looked at her. Suddenly she felt a little self-conscious. Without realizing it, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Um, yes, I'm supposed to report to you, Mr. Schramm. Or may I call you Gerhard?”

“Yes, of course. Even though my name tag says ‘manager,’ I'm not as formal as the people upstairs.“ He laughed and made a sweeping gesture that encompassed all the technical equipment in his workplace. ”Apparently, you were expecting something different. Nowadays, all building facilities are controlled electronically. We have the lighting here, the air conditioning there, and the elevators over there.”

Emily nodded in understanding. “And now you're going to teach me how to operate all of this?”

Gerhard laughed, a warm, contagious sound.

“No, not without an engineering degree and several weeks of training.”

“Then what am I doing here?” She looked at him questioningly. He laughed again.

“There are still a few things I can't control from here. One of them is emptying the trash cans.”

“What? You want me to be the cleaning lady?”

He winked at her. "Everyone has to start somewhere. Look on the bright side: this way you'll get to know the whole building. There's a changing room across the corridor where you'll find work coats. You don't want to get your pretty blouse and skirt dirty."

Emily realized there was no point in arguing. Gerhard was right, she should look on the bright side. So she got undressed in the changing room, leaving only her underwear on, and put on the smock.

So she strolled from office to office, hoping that as many men as possible would watch her as she bent over the trash cans.