After a few weeks of my second year in the dorms, I took note of the kind lady I see every morning as I stumble half-naked toward the showers. The kind lady is my janitor. And like most janitors her existence is unknown to many who see her.
According to Salary.com, the average annual pay of a janitor is somewhere around $21,736. That’s even less than Louisiana public school teachers! This makes sense, for in Louisiana we’ve established a tried-and-true tradition of paying those with some of the most important jobs the least.
But at least teachers don’t have to deal with soft language.
Janitors operate under the veneer of the title “maintenance engineer.” Perhaps this politically correct language enables us to back out of acknowledging just what they do: clean up after us.
It’s not an easy job. It’s dirty and it doesn’t pay as well as it should.
In the spirit of social justice, some respect must be paid. Adam Sandler had a song for lunchladies. A column will have to do for the janitors.
A letter, though, to those we owe, is in order. This letter I have drafted as follows:
Janitors of America,
As a student living in a residence hall, I know many of the wretched duties of your occupation. After thinking on your situation for some time, I remembered what would enrage me were I a janitor.
I know that those who have done the things listed below probably never apologized for them. I shall do it now, not on their behest, but on their behalf, and give you my steadfast oath to avoid infractions as grave as those catalogued.
I apologize for the guy who gets plastered and vomits indiscriminately around the bathroom. You have to clean that up, and you shouldn’t.
I apologize for the young man who stands at the top of the stairwell and tips a soft drink over just to watch it cascade down the stairs. I assure you, his laughs will be empty when he finds himself in Hell.
I apologize for those who toss their paper towels onto the floor beside the garbage can. In a perfect world, the punishment for such sloth would be akin to pistol-whipping.
I apologize for the many and varied smells you must endure.
I apologize for the creation of linoleum floors.
I apologize for those who light trash cans and benches on fire.
I apologize for the man who tainted the world with the phrase “maintenance engineer.” This man’s laughs, too, will be empty when he finds himself in Hell.
I’d also like to apologize to the specific janitor who cleaned up the blood at East Laville Hall last year after a certain member of the LSU community decided to somersault through the glass door. But, as a janitor, ghastliness abounds in your job.
You are the front lines in the microbe war. You fight fungus others ignore. You prevent disease, infection and chaos. We can all agree that your job is perhaps one of the most vital out there. You are appreciated.
Sincerely yours,
Eric J. Gremillion
After careful review of the letter and numerous deletions (including my last line, which was originally “Keep sweepin’!”), I have decided that the best route would be humility. The letter, if sent, would be a disservice. My final suggestion: a monument, in the middle of the dirtiest city in America (New Orleans), dedicated to they who clean up after the dirtiest people in the world.