Monday, December 20, 2010

Grr

So I am pissed -- in addition to all that she's done the damage our property, this apartment and my happiness, our cleaning lady has trashed one of our saucepans (the biggest one no less) to the point that Mister and I should no longer use it.

It's a non-stick 3-qt saucepan with a glass lid able to strain pasta. Now, we've not always been perfect about not using metal in it, however we never go out of our way to scratch and scrape it.

Last night, while drying this pot (after washing it), I noticed many small pricks in the bottom of the non-stick surface. Pricks, like something had repeatedly stabbed through it, and lifted little sections to stand straight up. Pricks reaching straight through to the metal underneath.

Knowing how dangerous an improperly cared for non-stick pan can be, I pointed it out to Mister, and stated that I felt we should no longer use it, and wondered how this damage happened.

"Oh it was [cleaning lady]," Mister stated confidently. "She throws all of the silverware into there when she's washing dishes. I've seen her do it."

Excuse me?! Going out of her way to trash the objects that I'd rather not have to spend money to replace? (It was a good, solid, heavy-duty pot, destined for many years of use.) I was furious. If it hadn't been 10:30 at night, several people would have gotten phone calls from me, so that I could vent and get it properly out of my system. Also, I'd like to know what exactly kind of cookware she uses at home, since she doesn't know how to care for both cast iron and non-stick.

So, I wrote up a cute little calendar deciding when and how many times the cleaning lady would be visiting before we leave. Three. That's it. She will not be allowed in our apartment beyond those three times, and if she tries to give Mister shit about "not enough notice" (four days requirement is excessive, Ms. Cleaning Lady), she can go suck a duck.

2 comments:

  1. Our domestic help, on the other hand, anxiousy looks over my shoulder when I clean my mum's brand new (and quite expensive) non-stick wok, because she's SURE if she looks away I'll use the steel wool on it.

    I think she still thinks I'm ten (which is when she came to work for us). But this just gave me an idea for a post -- check my blog when you're up.

    Oh, and I don't know what the norn is there, but in our neck of the woods, the cleaning lady would have to listen to a firm talk about exactly what is she NOT paid to do in someone else's kitchen.

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  2. See, -we're- not sure of the line for help, and since she pisses me off so thoroughly every time she comes, I don't feel comfortable talking to her.

    She's also, as our landlord puts it, a "nudge". One time Ted called her to cancel, apologized for the late notice, and Silvia told him that she was coming anyway -- and that he needed to pay her!

    Having help is an odd state of affairs here, I feel, and because of that, the divisions aren't as strong or clear or well understood.

    Also, we made a point to hide any steel wool -- I know she'd use it once, and then throw it away on me! (She's thrown away sponges that I guess -she- thought were done...)

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