Not So Squeaky Clean

In Italy they have the Mafia, in Japan there's the Yakuza, in China you've got your Triads and in South America it's the drug cartels you have to watch out for.  Where I live we have the window cleaners.  That's right, the window cleaners. No, that's not just some nickname for a street gang in my area - like say the Bloods or the Crips in Los Angeles - I'm talking about genuine window cleaners.  The actual people who make a living cleaning the windows round my way.

Now, I can understand why it might be difficult to accept that a trade as unassuming and run-of-the mill as window cleaning could ever possibly have anything in common with the afore mentioned volatile crime organisations.  After all, since the beginning of the twentieth century the window cleaner has rightfully built up and enjoyed the relatively positive reputation for being this cheery guy who comes around maybe once every couple of months and whistles a merry tune as he polishes those hard to reach panes of glass, before finally arriving at your door and engaging in some friendly banter while collecting a satisfactory fee for a job well done.  Indeed this squeaky clean image, so to speak, proved so durable that it not only survived a major scandal in 1936 - when one George Formby openly made allegations of voyeurism and invasion of privacy within the profession, with his thinly veiled protest song 'When I'm Cleaning Windows' – but it also eventually won over the general public to the idea of giving their local Glass Hygiene Maintenance Engineers the freedom to decide how frequently their own services were required.  This system of trust worked fine for a while and in fact probably still does in most places, but not in my town.

In my town – just as is the case with most crime syndicates that are born out of legitimate business – corruption reared its ugly head.  Somebody got greedy.  They violated the unspoken code of honour within the industry.  As a result my window cleaning service is no longer a service; it's a protection racket.

I'm telling you; I'm pretty sure I remember one time when the guy came to 'do the windows' twice in one month.  Sounds reasonable enough you say?  Yeah well don't bother saying that, because it just so happens the month in question was November and it had done nothing but piss down solid with rain every day of those four weeks, except on the two dates when my windows were apparently suddenly deemed to be in urgent need of a sporadic cleanse. Now you tell me, why would I want to pay somebody a tenner to do a job which Mother Nature or god or whatever had done twenty four hours ago for free?  I remember while he was working I even pointed out a few still fresh raindrops on the windowpane from the other side, d'you know what he did?  The cheeky monkey just winked then sudded up the glass.  He knew though…he knew.  To be honest it's not even like my windows ever really get that dirty.  I mean are they situated in Amsterdam's red-light district?  No.  Are they often affected by dust storms or the like?  No.  Do I hold wild mud wrestling competitions in my front garden?  No.  Not yet anyway.

For those still not convinced as to any criminal elements here, get this; the time before last, when the guy came to collect his payment he gave me his business card to pass on to anybody else living nearby whom he didn't already know about.  When I looked at it later, I noticed it read: "Don McKay, Window Cleaner."  Okay, his name could just be Donald, or it could just as easily refer to the head of some notorious McKay crime family, no doubt with strong links to the Cosa Nostra .  I think it's time someone stepped up and blew the whistle on this extortion before corruption engulfs the whole of what is otherwise the noble art of window cleaning.  Of course I've probably said too much already.  They'll probably find me in bed one morning with my window panned in, doused in soapy water, squeegeed to within an inch of my life, with a little piece of paper stuffed in my top poket saying, "Window cleaner was here while you were out."

Actually as it happens I think his name is just Donald.