It is a perpetual risk that being an old bird-man crosses the line into being a nostalgic, judgemental old fart. That said...
To clean the corridor in this modern era I must have a BICS certificate and am equipped with a mop, bucket, and assorted liquids.
Contrast when I first began. Dragged from your cell and presented with a bucket of water, block of carbolic soap , scrubbing brush, dishcloth and a kneeling pad. Yep, on yer knees scrubbing corridors by hand.
Tsch, the cons of today don't know they're born...
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Pity they don't scrub floors like that today in modern hospitals - we would not have these super bugs if they did!
ReplyDeleteI remember those days without fondness Ben.
ReplyDeleteI clearly recall being made to get up from my scrubbing (of a very long corridor dubbed the M1) to stand to attention whilst saying "excuse me sir", every time one of the sadistic boy-beating screws walked pass.
After the scrubbing would come the polishing.
The polish would be laid with a cloth. This would then be 'buffed up' using 'bumpers', which were very heavy (almost as heavy as some of the boys trying to wield them!) rectangular blocks, attached to long broomstick-like handles, under which a suitable cloth would be placed for a floor "I can see my face in it" - as the screws would like to spout at regular intervals.
I hated scrubbing, and the nasty-minded screws in equal measure.
"I can see my face in"
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