Party's Over

I clean up parties for a living. You’d be surprised how much I earn after just one party. People are willing to pay a lot so they won’t have to clean it up themselves. Then, they won’t feel bad when their parties get too messy. I earn hundreds just cleaning up one party. 

Really, I don’t have to clean up parties anymore– I have plenty of money. But I like helping people, and cleaning things up. I also get to eat the leftover cakes. 

However, there’s just one thing. It’s a pretty lonely job. No one ever offers to help me clean it up, not that they should– it’s my job, and I’m earning the money. But still, it’s a lonely job. And most of the time I start cleaning up at one o’clock in the morning; people always party so late. I think I’m becoming nocturnal.

Today, or should I say tonight– nah, it’s so late the sun’s coming up again. Today, I arrived to clean up a birthday party. The house was humongous, and a banner was hung up with the words, “Happy Birthday, Myrrh!” “What a nice name,” I thought. I’d sure like to meet her.

I walked up the tiny steps to the house, which surprised me, since I thought the steps would be huge, just like the house. I pressed the doorbell, and a tall lady in a shimmering dress opened the door. I felt sort of self-conscious, since I was wearing only a raggedy shirt and jeans so dirty they were brown all over. I didn’t dress like this normally– I just didn’t like getting my nicer clothes dirty.

“You must be the cleaner!” the lady said, then yelled behind her, “All right everybody, wrap it up, the cleaner’s here!”

I heard a bunch of groans. I often had this effect on people in parties. Whenever I appeared, their party was close to an end.

All the guests bid their goodbyes, and slowly trickled out. In twenty to thirty minutes, the room was deserted. The owners of the house went upstairs, probably to get some sleep.

I looked around. Cakes were smeared on the table, pizzas were sticking on the walls (for some reason), wrapping paper was strewn on the floor, and the whole house was littered with plates, bags, and some random objects. I sighed, and went to work collecting all the trash.

My usual routine for cleaning was to clean up the trash first, then put the toys– if there were any– back in their boxes. Cleaning up so many houses, I pretty much knew where the toys would be stored. Same with the plates, glasses, and cups; but I would wash them first. I noticed that most of the houses used Dawn brands for dish soap. Maybe it was because they all party so late they always wash their dishes at dawn. Ok, that was a bad joke. Cleaning up parties isn’t exactly healthy for my humor. Where was I? Right. After putting everything away I would mop away all the stains on the floor, walls, and table.

I was about to turn on the music when I realized I’d forgotten to bring my earbuds. I felt uncomfortable just playing the music out loud, since I didn’t want to wake up the people, so I worked in silence. It was so quiet, I jumped when I heard a bark. 

A large dog with dark, curly fur came bounding in. It had different-colored eyes– a green and blue one on the right, and a brown one on the left. I could tell the dog was part golden-retriever by its playful smile and the way its fur curled down. I looked around, not sure where the dog was supposed to be, when I heard dragging. I whipped my head around, and saw the dog dragging a piece of wrapping paper on the ground.

“No, that’s not a toy!” I whisper-yelled. The dog looked at me, its eyebrows high up. It continued walking, and to my amazement, put the wrapping paper in the trash bin. It was then that I realized the dog was missing a front leg.

I gawked at the dog. No person had ever offered to help me clean up, and here was a dog with only three legs, cleaning up the mess.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to clean it up. It’s my job, after all,” I said to the dog. It looked at me like it was saying, “No, I insist.”

So I found myself cleaning up with a dog. After a while, we developed a routine. The dog would throw away the trash and put all the toys back in their boxes, while I washed the dishes and put them back in the cupboards. Although we worked in silence– as I couldn’t very well have a conversation with a dog– I enjoyed the company, and it was better than any other day cleaning up parties. 

Once, while mopping, I caught the dog sniffing at some chocolate on a plate. My eyes widened and I snatched the plate away, the dog’s tongue extended. After I made sure it didn’t eat any of it, I sighed in relief. 

Just then, the lady came down the stairs, her slippers padding softly on the floor. She went to the fridge and got out some milk and cookies. Or maybe it was a glass of glue and meat patties with dark dots. You can never be too sure what those people in really big houses eat. While eating, she looked around, and seemed surprised at how clean the room was.

“You clean fast,” she said.

“Thank you. Your dog helped me with some of it,” I said. The dog wagged its tail and barked, as if saying, “I sure did!”

The lady looked at her dog, smiling. “She’s a special one. One time I caught her sharing her doghouse with a family of possums.”

I laughed. “Oh yeah, here,” she handed me the money. 

“Thanks,” I said. I was about to leave when I turned around and said, “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Oh,” she said. “It’s Myrrh.”