The Forest Hill Cleaning Academy offers two main types of courses – for beginners and for advanced cleaners wanting to take the next step in their professional careers. The gap between them is so substantial that you cannot sign up for the wrong course by mistake. Or at least I thought so until a few weeks ago.
Our team has split the beginners’ courses into three main sections – carpet, window, and home cleaning. We usually have groups of about 6-7 novices who sign up and probably 3-4 who finish the four-week course and get their certificates. Since we cooperate with the leading training institutions in the UK in the cleaning industry, like NCCA (The National Carpet Cleaners Association) and the BWCA (British Window Cleaning Academy), most cleaning contractors recognise the value of our “diplomas”.
A few weeks ago, we started a new novice-level course in carpet cleaning. I had just finished a challenging top-level course in cleaning management and business planning and thought the change of pace would be good. Besides, the novice courses are the bread and butter of the Academy, so I never allow myself to believe they are beneath my expertise.
Fortunately, I had stumbled upon a really nice bunch of motivated and positive-minded people who genuinely wanted to learn (trust me, that is now always the case!). The course lasts four weeks, and each week is dedicated to one of the following topics – basic carpet cleaning (methods and equipment); case studies – persistent stains, heavily smothered carpets, etc.; off-site practice with carpet-washing equipment; on-site carpet cleaning practice in real conditions. The final exam consists of a theoretical test and a random cleaning exercise.
During the first two weeks, which are more theory-oriented, I got to know my students better. As in any other group in any walk of life, you can quickly recognise the archetypes – the jokers, the introverts, the serious people who are all about the task at hand. Even with that in mind, one of the guys in my class, Paul, stood out. It’s not that he was arrogant, cocky, or obstructing, on the contrary. He was silent and polite, taking detailed notes of everything I said but never asking questions. I’ve met such people before – they are usually too shy to ask, even when necessary. So, at the end of the second week, I took him aside.
“Paul, I noticed you always pay attention in class but never ask questions like the other students. I just want to make sure you take full advantage of the course. Don’t be shy or concerned that a question might be too stupid – there is no such thing.”
He looked genuinely surprised but quickly regained his composure. “I do appreciate that, Peter. But you explain everything in such detail that I haven’t found the need to ask an extra question. I am not reticent on purpose.”
I wasn’t particularly convinced by his answer but decided to drop the issue. Besides, the forthcoming practices would certainly cause him to have questions. Boy, was I ever so wrong! I had completely misjudged the case!
It doesn’t take too long for a professional cleaner to recognise a colleague in action – “game recognises game”, as they say in the gangster movies. The moment I put a hot water extraction machine in Paul’s hands, I knew he had done it before. There was no way he knew how to operate it and switch the power levels intuitively. The way he moved and handled the machine and the ease with which he was covering all tasks immediately singled him out.
I must confess I was confused. Why would a professional carpet cleaner sign up for a novice course? By this time, I had no doubt Paul had at least a few years of experience in the industry. We were not a cleaning company but a training institution – it made no sense for a service contractor to send one of their technicians to spy on us. Was somebody planning to open a competing cleaning academy? But why the undercover nonsense – we had all the course information published online. Besides, Paul was not trying to cover his skill at all – if his goal was to play double agent, he was failing miserably.
Midway through the second week, I decided to grab the bull by the horns. After one of our practice sessions, I asked Paul to stay behind and wished the rest of my students a nice day.
“Look, I don’t know what your shtick is, but I don’t like to be made fool of. I bet all my money in my pocket against all the money in your pocket that you are a professional cleaner. So why don’t you tell me what the heck is going on?”
“I guess I should have come clean from the very start, but to be accurate, I never claimed that I am not a professional carpet cleaner.”
I look at him, stunned at his audacity. But Paul did not look arrogant or trying to be funny. “The thing is, I have helped with my father’s carpet-washing business ever since I was thirteen. So you could say I have almost fifteen years of experience in the field, though I can hardly put it in my CV. My dad retired a few years ago, but I never had any desire to deal with the business aspect of things. Instead, I started working for one of London’s leading carpet cleaning contractors.
I figured that with my skills and knowledge, I could quickly move up the ladder. My supervisor thought otherwise. He is the kind of guy who believes a piece of paper is more important than five years of experience. So here I am, trying to get your certificate to get me the promotion I deserve.”
It all made sense now. The competition going undercover – I guess I had watched too many Bond movies. “Who is your Dad?” I asked Paul.
“Roy Jones.”
“Dirty-carpet Roy is your Dad?! Are you kidding me? He is a legend among the old-timers. You should have started with that! Sorry to give you grief, brother.”
Paul and I ended up having a few beers at The Chandos. Needless to say, he took his certificate with a straight A and is now a senior carpet-cleaning supervisor. Whenever we meet, he teases me about our spy-thriller encounter. Lesson learned.