Highrise Window Washer

A Cleaning Game of Great Heights

Move effortlessly between 1,526 dirty, filth-covered windows with your trusty squeegee cleaning as you climb 23 floors. You work from a suspended cradle on the outside of a glass tower at dawn, in the rain, under a passing sun — your call. It's a simple job yet immeasurably satisfying: pull the blade across the glass, watch the grime come off, get paid per pane, move up a floor, do it again.

The Wash

Every pane holds real dirt that you need to remove with your squeegee. Methodically swipe away film that builds up thickest in the corners where the rain never reaches, gently attack vertical streaks that obscure the view, meditatively eliminate dried mineral spatter with glee, and eradicate the occasional 'gifts' from the birds that stop by. None of it is a texture that switches off. You take it off with your squeegee, stroke by stroke, and what you have removed stays removed. But what you have gained is the rhythmic satisfaction of the clean.

The Tower

Four sides to the building, floor by floor, pane by pane, swipe by swipe move your way to completion with every satisfying stroke. You get paid for the pane, not the pain; because there isn't any. When a floor is done it pays as well. When a side is done it pays better. When the whole tower is complete you'll be able to stand back and appreciate your masterpiece of cleanliness.

The Tools

You start with your own squeegee. It's old, and you found it in your garage. Then, the company furnished one becomes yours and you're pretty sure it's not much better. But the more money you make, the better the squeegee you can buy. Wider, faster and wetter. More satisfying than the last. No more smear, just smooth strokes of squeaky clean glory. Finally, you get the graphene-coated silicone blade squeegee set on a tensioned spring-steel beam. It's like butter. Well it doesn't taste like butter. Or cook like it but- you know what I mean. 

The Top

The wind gets louder the higher you go. The cradle sways and you can hear the precariousness of the platform. Sometimes rain comes in and undoes some of what you did, but it's all good; more satisfaction. The city goes about its evening underneath you. Lit windows and streetlights and traffic you can hear are the music to your conducting. You have free look to enjoy the view of the city at any time, just don't look down if you don't like heights. But don't worry, you can't fall. How could you? The city needs you...