Three Years on the Toilet, in Exchange for a Million Dollar Kiss from My Husband

At three o'clock in the morning, I was kneeling in front of the toilet in the presidential suite of Tianyue Hotel. The rubber glove wrapped tightly around my hand, and the brush pressed against the inner wall of the ceramic, one, two, three times. The water splashed up, carrying the pungent smell of disinfectant. I repeated this action mechanically, with only one thought in my mind - this is the 3652nd toilet. All the toilets I've cleaned over the past three years could clog the city's sewers.