The Hygenie

 

Larry wasn't expecting to find anything inside an old bottle of dish soap laying by the side of the road, except maybe a little extra soap. But there he was, in his spotless glory. You see, the Hygenie had been waiting for someone to rub the bottle for years. But when most people see garbage, they keep walking. They don’t even pick it up as a courtesy. As it turns out, this particular twentysomething was on his way to the laundromat. Only he didn’t bring along enough detergent for ensuing multiplicity of loads. 

Yes, you’re not supposed to use dish soap on your clothes, but when backed into a stained corner, you do whatever you have to. There wasn’t any soap in the bottle, just the Hygenie.

“I will grant you three washes,” said the Hygenie, “but there are a few ground rules. You can’t ask for more than three washes. I can’t wash you by hand, it’s a little too intimate for me, and I can’t do anything about red wine stains. Understand?”

Now he didn’t want to waste his washes. But he owned a lot of dirty things so it was hard to decide at first. 

“Wash my car,” said Larry. 

“Your wash is my command,” said the Hygenie. He nodded and his used Land Rover sparkled in an instant. He felt like it wasn’t even this clean the day it rolled off the assembly line. The Hygenie cleaned everything. Inside the glove compartment, under the seats, the dash. There wasn’t a crumb or a piece of lint to find. It didn’t smell like a new car though. Even magical beings have their limitations.

His hair was greasy and he hadn’t showered in days. But the Hygenie said no touching so that was out. He picked up a few plums and tomatoes from the market that needed a deep cleaning.

“Wash my produce,” said Larry.

The Hygenie went to work. He was careful not to puncture the delicate stone fruit. But he did the trick and when Larry tried the first one he was satisfied. Now he had one wash left. He still had to do his laundry. But his whole life was a filthy mess. Then he had an idea.

 

“So I was thinking about hiring a cleaning service, but if you’re willing to work for room and board. Food's included. Do you eat?"

The chance at freedom was enticing. Like a sea creature he'd moved from different bottles over the years. Mrs. Meyers was the best, but Dawn was the latest. He had to think it over. Whatever you think about a soap bottle, it was his home. 

“Okay. But on one condition. No baths.”

It was agreed that baths would not be under the Hygenie’s purview. And thus a beautiful partnership was born. Larry grew up and left behind his immaturity and squalid living conditions with the help of a thousand year old soapy spirit. Because if you can’t be hygienic on your own, find a compulsively fastidious genie who can.