Illicit Bang

I have found a new love. Well, of course I have True Love, or the odd sighting of him, but now, thank God, I have a bit on the side as well. It happened quite by chance, as I was doing my Sainsbury’s trawl, forgetting all the stuff I needed like kitchen paper and getting bewitched, as usual, by non-essentials like a Frenchy rub-thing for beef costing £2.95. Ridiculous, I know, as I could have bought the spices separately for half the price, but somehow it ended up in the trolley.

Anyway, I wandered almost by chance into the cleaning aisle and there he was – just the type we’ve all been warned about. Strong, powerful, positively dangerous, he radiated menace. And I just had to have him.

So I put the bottle of Cillit Bang in on top of the herb rub thing and scuttled off to the check-out, hoping no-one would see my act of eco-crime.

You see, these days, post-divorce poverty has forced me to do my own cleaning. As the trauma of the past few months has opened up a rich, hitherto unsuspected seam of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, this actually suits me much better than you might expect. I spend hours polishing the stainless steel oven and, yes, I admit it, dusting the tops of doors, while mulling over legal letters or, preferably, not thinking at all. I lug the vacuum up and down the stairs (of course, this is an economy-sized property with two and a bit floors, not like the five storey mansion I left behind Abroad, whinge moan), I mop floors, I clean the loos, for God’s sake, and I generally get my lilly white hands dirty. And, of course, I started off with the intention of doing all my cleaning without leaving even the daintiest trace of a carbon footprint. I bought a vast collection of those eco-cloths, I eschewed chemicals, and I spent forever buffing things with the microfibre pads designed to be smear-free.

And guess what? They don’t sodding work. I bet you didn’t know that, as you probably pass them to your au pair and are then annoyed when the incompetent lass leaves everything vaguely dingy. Well, it’s not actually her fault. Eco stuff basically doesn’t get anything clean at all, unless you spend all day on your hands and knees scrubbing. And life, even for OCD me, is just too short.

That’s where my lovely, gorgeous secret Illicit Bang comes in. He really does work just as masterfully as he says on the label. A tiny spray, and it’s all done. In fact, you really don’t need to leave it on for longer than a minute before the whole area is fizzing in a most satisfactory way. The only drawback? Well, um, don’t forget to take your diamond rings off before you start using him. Like I said, he really is dangerous. And don’t, on any account, let yourself get spotted making the purchase. Chemicals these days really are terribly non-U – unless you’re injecting them into your face, of course.

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