Window Washers.

I work on the sixth floor of a corporate office, and for the last two weeks, there have been window washers. I've waited, patiently, for the day to come when the window washers would be working right in front of my window. That day has arrived, my friends, just in time for Christmas.

Right now, all I can see is ropes. They are swaying, gently, side to side. I haven't decided if I'm going to wave at the window washer or not when he gets to our floor. I might, instead, just stare at him, meaningfully.

Here is a story about window washers in New York City dying and being trapped perilously. Here is my favorite quote from that article:

Mr. Domaszowec’s wife, Tracey, 47, said that her husband’s father, also an
immigrant from Ukraine, had washed windows for 27 years. Mr. Domaszowec started working as a window washer in 1985, joining the union, she said.

“People don’t realize that being married to a window cleaner is very
much like being married to a fireman or a policeman,” she said, sitting with her
daughter, Larissa, 18, and son, Alex, 12, in the garden outside of their house
in Kerhonkson, N.Y., in Ulster County.

Sgt. Michael P. Edwards, who helped rescue the workers trapped on
Tuesday at 3 Times Square, said that rescuing window washers is one of Emergency Service Unit’s most challenging operations, along with facing down gunmen and trying to talk someone out of committing suicide.


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