Or you would think so by the receiving party that was sent forth to welcome the new nursing home resident. Mr Inlet. Turns out he was the founder of the home they now consciously and unconsciously reside in. And there I was thinking they were all gathered in the foyer to see me off after my shift.
So yes, for the princely sum of seven buckeroonies an hour, with loving care and some disgust I will wash the farts and other liquid like matter out of yer Granny and Granpah’s undergarments.
And I bloody love it.
Withstanding the occasional frantic visits from the head of housekeeping Prancy asking if “the bibs are in”, I am usually left to my own devices. I’ll have to remember “works well unsupervised” for my next job interview.
Sixty-one assorted wee and arse holes can emit a helluva lot of bodily fluid. And none of it pretty. So far I have been assaulted by an amorous eighty year old female… Yes my charm knows no bounds. Washed the wank out of an old dudes hankerchief…Yes the first day I thought it was snot. Been growled at by the resident grouch and told “I just lurve yer accent” too many times to remember.
Now if only they could guess correctly where I’m from.
So far it’s been Irish [ahh begone wit ya]; English [certainly not]; New Zealand [okay getting close]. One day when if I ever get tired of saying I’m Australian I will just answer yes to the incorrect guesses and besmirch the good names of entire countries in the process. One lady NurseMary did actually guess correctly but then she sullied her 100% score by adding her “future son-in-law is from New Zealand and you sound exactly the same”.
The administrator is an ex-Army guy. Seems alright. Only had three face to faces with him. Two in the elevator, one where he asked if “I was keeping busy”, my reply of “this is where I answer ALWAYS, right?” made him laugh loudly. Dunno why as I don’t think I was being particularly funny. I’m way more funnier with the comments in my head.
Don’t reckon he’ll laugh so easily once he knows I am licensed to drive now!
Yes, you read that right.
Yesterday, I went down to the local courthouse had my details and photo taken. And wahlaah a license was handed over. Now it’s no wonder “how’d you get yer license” is so easily shouted. It’s because no written or driving test is taken. Yes, gobsmacked me also. Apparently if you are licensed in another country it’s as simple as showing your license for there and telling them how much you weigh [haha of course I lied] how tall you are [no lie] and what colour eyes you have.
I am also the occupier of a Yank bank account.
Just look at me assimilating goodly.
14 comments on So Here I Am, Laundress to Tha Stars.
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When I was in England the blokes were astounded that I couldn't distinguish between their dialects. I was like come on now, I know your English! haha
I love all those accents myself. I wish us whiny American's we're so whiny! [TONGUE][ROLLEYES][HEART]
Love IT...[HEART]
Gidday . . . [HEART]
Amorous ladies...from the sounds of it there must be a sexual peak in the later years.
It's nice to read ya again, sista.