Chapter Seven — The Tools of Cleanliness

This chapter is all based on my own personal experience. I’m not saying this is the only way to clean, or even that it’s the way you should clean. Every building, every boss, and every janitor has their own system. You might not even be allowed to do things the way I do them, so always check with your employer first. What I’m sharing here is what I’ve found works best—the methods, tools, and products that actually get things clean, not halfway clean, not “technically clean,” but clean-clean. The kind of clean that makes you proud to walk away from your work knowing it shines.

One of the first things I learned early on is that I prefer to buy some of my own cleaning chemicals. Not because I have to, but because I want to. I like cleaning products—the way they smell, the way they work, the way the surfaces look afterward. I’ve found that many company-provided cleaners are either cheap, weak, or just plain useless. So yes, I spend my own money. I’d rather do that than half-do a job with something that doesn’t work. For me, that’s not a waste of money—it’s a matter of pride.

Let’s start with glass cleaner.

From my experience, any kind of glass cleaner you have to mix with water will leave streaks. Always. It doesn’t matter how you wipe it or how careful you are—those diluted cleaners streak like crazy. I can’t stand streaks. I remember when I worked at Arby’s for a while, they required us to use this so-called “approved” glass cleaner that was so bad it made the glass look worse after you wiped it. You could honestly skip cleaning altogether and end up with a better result. That’s how I learned that any glass cleaner that needs to be mixed or diluted is basically just a bottle of problems.

The two glass cleaners I trust are the Original Windex (blue) and another one in an aerosol bottle called World’s Best Glass Cleaner. The Windex has ammonia, and the other one doesn’t, but they both perform almost equally well. The Windex cuts through real dirt and grime, such as on entry windows, while the World’s Best version is perfect for things like bathroom mirrors. Both leave your windows and mirrors clear, crisp, and streak-free.

When it comes to what you wipe with—use new paper towels. Not cloth towels, not rags, not “reusable microfiber.” Even clean-looking cloths often have residue left on them from detergent, lint, or old use, and that residue transfers right back to your mirror. So use new paper towels each time. They absorb better, they leave no trace, and the glass ends up sparkling.
And remember: never dilute your glass cleaner with water. Ever.

Now, for regular disinfectant cleaner, I use whatever my company provides. It’s the all-purpose spray for sinks, counters, desks, and just about everything else that needs a wipe-down. It does the job well enough, and it’s safe for most surfaces. But for floors—that’s another story.

I’ve tried the floor cleaner my company provides. It’s fine, but it’s nothing special. It comes in a big jug, labeled something like “industrial floor cleaner,” and it does the job… but then I tried Pine-Sol. Pine-Sol works better. It smells cleaner, cuts through dirt better, and leaves the room feeling and smelling fresh. The only warning I’d give is that it’s strong—both in cleaning power and smell. Some people love that scent, others can’t stand it. So be thoughtful about who’s in the building and whether they’re sensitive to it. The same goes for bleach. I only use bleach occasionally for special jobs. When I do, I dilute it with water and use it sparingly. And I never carry bleach on my cart. Why? Because it drips. You roll your cart over carpet, and those tiny drips will bleach little white spots right into it. Always store bleach safely in your closet and only use it when absolutely necessary. Some companies forbid bleach entirely—always check first.

For shining chrome, faucets, and metal fixtures, I use glass cleaner again. It makes the metal sparkle. My motto is simple:
If it doesn’t sparkle, it’s substandard.
You can’t call something clean unless it sparkles. A dull faucet or spotted mirror doesn’t say “clean,” it says “forgotten.” A little glass cleaner and paper towel on chrome will make it gleam like it was just installed.

Now, for stainless steel, I recommend the oil-based cleaner—not the water-based kind. I’ve tried both, and the difference is night and day. The oil-based cleaner gives the surface that deep, rich shine and leaves it looking new. The water-based kind, on the other hand, might as well just be plain water. Honestly, I’ve had tap water do a better job. Oil-based is the only way to go.

And speaking of cleaners, let’s talk about those labels you see on bottles: “Heavy Duty,” “Industrial Strength,” or “Commercial Grade.” Sounds impressive, doesn’t it? Makes you think you’re buying something powerful enough to melt grime on sight. But here’s the truth—in my experience, those phrases usually mean the exact opposite.
“Industrial strength” often just means the original formula watered down and rebranded for bulk use. I once looked at the back of a big “industrial cleaner” bottle. The ingredients read: 96% water, 4% citric acid.
Let’s pause and think about that for a second.
Citric acid? You mean like… lemon juice?

So, you’re basically buying a gallon of expensive lemon water. Probably costs $59.95 a jug, too.
(pssst… you could do the same thing yourself with a bucket of water and a squirt of lemon juice—there’s your “industrial strength” cleaner for sixty bucks less.)

That’s how ridiculous it gets sometimes. They water it down, label it “heavy duty,” and sell it for twice the price. But a good janitor knows better. You learn by feel—by what actually cuts through grime, what doesn’t leave streaks, what makes chrome glow, and what truly makes a place feel clean.

So take these notes for what they are: experience talking. Every surface tells a story, and every product has its personality. Find the ones that tell yours truthfully.

Now, when it comes to toilets and sinks—the thrones and fountains of civilization—there’s no substitute for the classics: Ajax or Comet powder with bleach. I’ve tried them all, and nothing comes close. I personally prefer Ajax because it turns the water a beautiful shade of blue, almost like it’s showing you that something sacred is happening beneath the surface. You sprinkle it in, let it fizz for a moment, and suddenly the porcelain wakes up—it’s alive again. That color isn’t just cosmetic; it’s a sign of chemistry at work, a tiny blue baptism for your sink and toilet. And when you meet a stain that laughs in the face of every cleaner you’ve got—one of those stubborn brown mineral marks that refuses to budge—there’s only one true weapon: the pumice stone. Gently, respectfully, you scrub with it, and it erases years of neglect in seconds without hurting the porcelain. It’s oddly satisfying, too—watching that surface return to its original purity. Isn’t it strange how a simple rock can do what gallons of fancy liquid can’t? Maybe cleanliness, like holiness, is sometimes best achieved through something rough yet honest.

Now, when it comes to polishing wood, stick to the classics. I recommend Old English or Pledge—the originals. Not the off-brands, not the dollar-store versions. Those look the same, smell the same, even promise the same—but wood knows the difference. Wood is alive in its own way. It has grain, breathes with humidity, and reacts to oil. The original Pledge and Old English were designed for that kind of material. The knockoffs just coat the surface; they don’t feed it. And that’s what real polish does—it feeds the wood.

If I’m being honest, dusting is probably my weak point. It’s not that I don’t care—it’s just that dust hides. It hides in places you wouldn’t think to look. The top of a doorframe, behind a monitor, on the light fixtures, under a picture frame—dust is sneaky like that. My boss, without fail, can walk into a room and immediately spot something I missed. And he’s right. Every time. So let this be a word of advice: don’t forget the dusting.

Look up, down, and all around. Check window sills, table legs, the tops of partitions, and ceiling corners for cobwebs. Dust first, then vacuum, because that dust you just stirred up is going to settle on the floor—and that’s where the vacuum comes in.

Before you vacuum, there’s a little trick that changes the entire feel of a room: sprinkle baking soda on the carpet. Just a light dusting, nothing crazy. You can use plain baking soda or the scented kind—those “carpet fresh” powders you see at the store. It’s the same base ingredient, just with fragrance added. Either way, you sprinkle it, let it sit for 10-15 minutes, and then vacuum.

Now, what’s interesting is that baking soda doesn’t leave any visible change. You won’t see a difference when you’re done. But you’ll feel it. The air feels crisper. The room feels somehow cleaner—not just physically, but energetically. It’s hard to describe, but you walk in afterward and you just know something is right. The air feels lighter, fresher, and the space itself breathes easier.

There’s real science behind that feeling, too. Baking soda (sodium bicarbonate) is a natural neutralizer. On a molecular level, it absorbs and binds with acids and odor-causing molecules in the air and carpet fibers, balancing the pH of the environment. Many odors are acidic in nature—sweat, food residues, organic decay—and baking soda neutralizes them instead of just masking them. It also increases ionization in the air slightly, similar to how fresh rain feels when it clears the atmosphere. That’s why the air feels “new” after you’ve vacuumed with it—it’s not just your imagination; the chemistry has actually shifted.

So yes—baking soda isn’t about what you see. It’s about what you feel. It doesn’t just clean the floor; it restores the atmosphere.

And while we’re on the subject of air—let’s talk about Lysol.
I don’t know what happened to Lysol, but somewhere between here and China, and somewhen between now and twenty years ago, something changed. The old Lysol in the aerosol can used to obliterate bathroom odors. You could spray it once, and the smell was gone. Vanished. Nowadays, I can spray half a can, and it still doesn’t eliminate the odor—it just floats there, pretending to help. Somewhere along the line, they weakened it or swapped out a key chemical. It still disinfects, but it doesn’t cleanse the air like it used to.

So what do I recommend instead? Ozium.
Ozium spray—get it at Walmart, an auto parts store, anywhere they sell car accessories. That’s the stuff that actually clears the air. It doesn’t just add a scent; it chemically removes odors, purifying the air itself. You spray it once and the room resets. It’s got a pleasant cinnamony-like smell. I use it especially in bathrooms, breakrooms, or anywhere that needs a total refresh.

As for daily freshness, the automatic air fresheners that spray every 30 minutes work well. I keep them in restrooms on the lowest setting, just enough to keep a steady light scent in the air. People always notice it when they walk in—they don’t know what’s different, but they feel it. It’s the smell of care. It tells them someone is paying attention.

If you want something a little gentler for hallways or offices, those plug-in Wallflowers or Glade plug-ins do the trick, though you have to replace them regularly. They make the air inviting without being overwhelming.

Now, one more thing about plants—because plants are part of the building’s soul too. They give life to a space, but sometimes they attract bugs. If you ever see gnats or mites around them, spray the leaves lightly with neem oil once every week or two. It’s natural and safe. If you need something stronger, there’s a green bottle of Raid—the one marked for plants—that’s safe and effective. It kills the bugs instantly and won’t hurt the plant.

And that brings us to the end of this chapter.

Cleaning isn’t just about appearances. It’s about presence.
When you dust, vacuum, polish, and freshen the air, you’re not just maintaining a building—you’re restoring its soul. Every surface remembers the care you give it. Every room carries the fingerprint of your effort. You might think no one notices, but they do. People walk into a clean room and breathe easier. They feel lighter, more focused, more peaceful.

That’s what true janitorial work does—it heals the invisible.

The greatest compliment you’ll ever get is silence. Not words. Not applause. Just the quiet sense that people walk into the building and feel good. That’s when you know you’ve done your job.

So when you clean, clean with pride. Clean with excellence. Clean like you’re erasing yesterday and preparing the world for tomorrow.

And above all—make it sparkle!