the case of the missing chair

The cleaning lady finally showed up yesterday, after I spent two hours the previous day vacuuming the whole apt and cleaning mirrors and toilets. But I hadn't dusted or washed any floors, or properly cleaned the bathrooms or the kitchen, so I was happy to see her for a shortened shift.

However, the shift was mysteriously cut even shorter while we weren't home. I was out killing a couple of hours since I don't like to be underfoot, and intended to return in time to drive her back to the center of town. Mr. S phoned me about half an hour before the cleaner was supposed to finish and told me her daughter had come to help her and that they were now already gone. In fact, she had taken the spare key from our apt door, locked it, thrown it in our mail box at the entrance, and was only phoning him when already on the street. Highly unusual, since she always gets a ride from us, and I was also annoyed to hear that there was another stranger (for me) in the apt while I was away. However, no harm no foul, I figured.

Until this morning. I opened the door to our small balcony and immediately saw there were only three chairs around the table, where there had always been four. These are rather large, heavy metal-framed chairs with sturdy wicker seats, a set which matches the round, glass-topped table. From upscale furnishings store Beitili, they weren't cheap, and I probably won't be able to match it again either. Where was the fourth chair? Very used to searching for random items after the cleaning lady has gone, I walked around the apt doubtfully. It's a small apt, and there's nowhere for a chair that big too hide. No chair.

With a howling wind blowing this morning so strongly that I had to close all the windows, I even wondered if the chair had been blown off the balcony, hurricane-style, but the other three chairs were sitting around the table in an orderly, equidistant fashion, so it didn't seem likely that the wind had been strong enough to disturb them. I got Mr. S to phone the cleaning lady and she insisted that there were only three chairs. But none of those 4 chairs has ever moved anywhere from the balcony in all the time we've owned them (maybe 3 years). It wasn't possible.

Here's our theory, though awfully hard to swallow: She (or her daughter) decided to clean the awning over the balcony and used a chair to get up higher. The previously mentioned wicker seat, while quite sturdy enough for sitting, is probably not strong enough to hold a person standing and pushing with feet in concentrated spots. We think she broke the seat and took it away to hide the evidence. Is this bizarre behavior for a cleaning lady? I've had them break things before, and one just has to get over it; it happens. But stealing the chair to cover herself? What other explanation is there for the disappearance, and for her hasty, unusual leave-taking?

Well, we haven't paid her yet for yesterday, and I don't intend to either. My guess is that she won't even have the nerve to call and ask to be paid -- what we owe her for yesterday is less than what the chair cost us. But damn, it's irritating, especially when we can't be sure, and now there's no way I'll be able to have her back again, and the creeping insidious grunge will take over again while waiting for me to deal with it. BAH!