On Wednesdays and Thursdays, I clean houses on the lower section of Wenceslas Avenue- 190-220 on the right, 191-221 on the left.  And that means that I get to go into people’s houses while they’re away and see what strange things they keep in there.

Here are two of them.

*

Number 192- The one with the stop-motion pornographer

The sad thing is, this is one of the more normal ones.

Besides the wheelchair ramp and the stairlift, it’s a whole lot of MDF.  It looked like it was furnished by someone who really hates shopping, like they agreed to spend an hour in Ikea grabbing the first things they could get their hands on just so they’d never have to go again.  It smells nice, anyway.  There’s an airy, appley scent wafting through the hallways when you come in.  That’s definitely better than a pile of clowns.

There are four people living there, but three of them I’ve only met in passing.  The one I’ve really got to know is a guy a couple of years younger than me, who works from home and calls out, “Hi, Chris!” from his office when I come in.  (For the record, I did not at any point tell him to call me Chris.  That was all him.)  I’ve never seen him outside his office, but I don’t know if that’s because he’s working hard or if he’s just too polite to use more than one room while I’m cleaning.

I knew he made films from subtle clues like all the cameras and lighting in the office, but he’s usually packed the actual stuff he’s filming away by the time I go in to clean in there.  One day, though, I saw some little clay models in a forest set (green tablecloth, trees made out of twigs), and I asked him if he’d made them himself.  He said yes, and seemed a bit embarrassed.  They were four-inch-high werewolf-y looking things, very detailed for something that size.  He’d given them lines on their hands and crow’s feet around their eyes,.  I didn’t lay it on too thick, because he was clearly a bit self-conscious about it, but I made it clear I was impressed.  And I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of films he made with them.

That evening after work, I looked him up and found his website.  And… well, you saw the title I gave this section, right?

Ever since then, I’ve wondered what percentage of the household income is his.  There can’t be that many people who are into watching claymation werewolves getting it on, but I bet the ones who are will pay through the nose for it.  It’s like when I worked at the Compass and I got paid extra for being the first one into the men’s toilets after closing on Saturday nights.  We all have our niche.

Number 199- The really filthy one

I think these people decided that, since a cleaning service was included in the rent, they’d take full advantage of it by merrily rolling around in filth the rest of the week.  I honestly almost admire them for that.

There’s been mould on the towels.  There’s been chewing gum on the surfaces.  There’s been pasta sauce splattered up the walls (even on the ceiling, a couple of times).  There’s been food trodden into the carpets, and dropped clothes trodden into the food.  There’s been unholy cocktails of bodily fluids in the beds and on the sofas.  There’s been stuff in the toilet bowl that isn’t meant to be, and stuff that is meant to be left all around the bathroom.  There’s also a serious mouse problem, but luckily I’m a cleaner, not an exterminator, so I don’t have to do anything about it.  In fact, I’ve been building them an obstacle course out of random objects in the kitchen.  I might ask the guy from number 192 to help me make them some furniture.