Vanishing act

I often wonder what Nokki, my domestic worker, does when left alone in our apartment. It must be tremendous. I can just picture her having a field day going through my cupboards and drawers, mentally filing away bits of information to profile my personality, like the state of my bra’s and g-strings, the stash of chocolates I hide from myself and the purple negligee I keep disguised underneath my pajamas. I know for a fact that she:
• Likes to watch the movie magic channel,
• Loves Oros,
• Unwraps and then scruffily rewraps presents that were bought for friends or family,
• Makes use of the toasted sandwich machine,
• Likes reading anything of a personal nature left unconcealed (I know she particularly enjoyed the Valentine’s day card the Hot Fisherman gave me which I left tucked away in my drawer and later found on my dressing table),
• Uses my housemates I-pod,
• Uses my housemates hair brushes (leaving short, curly evidence on the bristles) and
• Enjoys time-outs on our couch with her feet up on our coffee table.

I don’t mind that she does some of these things because if I were in her position I would take advantage too, but I can’t help but feel that she is invading my personal space when she unwraps birthday presents and reads my cards.

Yesterday I arrived home early from work (to my domestic workers evident surprise and irritation). She had been chilling on the couch, sipping on a cool glass of Oros, taking considerable pleasure in watching Will Smith in Seven Pounds. I said nothing and walked straight to my bedroom, closing the door quietly behind me and feeling like I had invaded her quiet time. I was too nervous to leave my room in case I found Nokki basking on the couch and wouldn’t know what to say, so I just sat on my bed for a while. I eventually built up the courage to emerge from my bedroom. Like magic, the TV had been switched off, remotes had been neatly stowed away and there was no evidence anywhere of her lunch or her Oros. It was like it never happened. Two seconds later, she appeared out of nowhere and asked if there was anything else I wanted her to do before she left. Then, poof…she was gone. Harry Houdini could have learnt a thing or two from my Nokki.