#538 Tortuous Turnings

It’s not always a pretty place inside my brain.
You got your chaos, and your disorder, and your random thoughts flitting in, piling up, and rustling around like stacks of autumn leaves.
Perhaps I have an overactive sense of wonder.
Or perhaps an overactive sense of “I wonder.”
Like I wonder if they ever clean the tubes in the fast food joint play areas. And if so, who does it?
You see the play areas at all the family-oriented burger joints. Plastic statues of burger and nugget-shaped characters. Nets, tubes, and platforms crawling with kiddies. An occasional ball pit to simulate the fun experience of drowning. They are usually chock full of kids from two to ten.
And they often have colds.
Runny nose toddler mucho mucus colds
So between the snot, the hamburger grease, and the smeared ketchup, at what time does a play area crawl tube become a public health threat?
I don’t ever remember seeing one of the employees of the fast food establishments brandishing a giant Fuller tube brush. Or a hose for that matter.
And you’d think after a couple of years of burgers and boogers there’d be a great need for a thorough pressure washing.
So is that like the night shift’s worst job?
Night shift in a fast food place is always the grungiest duty. Empty and clean the fryers. Wipe the shelves and base plates of the refrigeration units. Hose off the pallets from the walk-ins, and then that most disgusting of jobs, periodically clean the sewer grease trap.
Enough, as they say, to gag a maggot.
So I’m guessing after mopping the floor, and after the toilet patrol, that’s what happens to the newest and presumably smallest of a fast food joint’s employees.
Tube duty.
“Hey you, Shorty, you got the playland swabby duty.
Grab a rag and some Clorox solution and wipe the tubes. Scrub ‘em good too, we don’t want the rugrats getting sick.
Their parents might sue the company.
Which reminds me, sterilize the surfaces with some of our super hot coffee. And don’t get stuck!”
America ya gotta love it