Opinion with Alun Newman: The Window Cleaner (I wish I hadn't met)

I love the noise and the energy, though I’m less of a fan of how all that concrete and tarmac seems to hold on to the day’s heat like a giant night storage heater. After a run of scorcher days, city dwellers don’t get the same kind of break we coastal types do. No refreshing sea breeze to stir the air, just more warm pavement and walls. My hotel was a fairly big place, reasonably comfortable, but with no air conditioning. It was clearly going to be a warm night.

Thankfully, I was several floors up and had a large oscillating fan, plus the occasional welcome draft through the window. Not so much a sea breeze, more like God inhaling car fumes and then gently exhaling them through the curtains.

However, even a slightly toxic breeze is better than none at all. As I was settling in, I noticed a note near the window. Clear, unambiguous, "At 05:00 tomorrow, the windows will be cleaned. To avoid being sprayed and any water damage, please keep windows closed from 05:00." Of all the hotels. Of all the days. I decided against setting a morning alarm to carry out window closing.

I’d just close the windows before bed and reassess things in the morning. My brain wakes me up early anyway. Sure enough, I was up with the birds, kettle on, and mid-shower before long. Then, for reasons I still can’t fully explain, after my shower I wondered if the window cleaner had already been. Maybe, I thought, if he’d done this side of the building, I could crack open a window for some airflow. I approached the big bedroom curtain. Carefully, discreetly, I peeked around it and looked down to the street. What are the odds? There he was.

Telescopic brush in full swing. Cleaning the very window, I was peering out of. Worse, he saw me. Worse still, he waved. What sort of mortifying start to the day is that? For either of us? I ducked back behind the curtain, retreated, got dressed, and then waited a hopefully safe amount of time before venturing outside. The very last thing I wanted was to bump into him on the pavement.

Which brings me back to window cleaners. They must say it all the time, “They were expecting me, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise…” The stories these people must carry around in their mind-palace don’t bear thinking about. Trust me. Try not to think about it.