

For Neighbour's Day: A hoover

I like my neighbours. If only there wasn't this little problem in the laundry room. For Neighbour's Day on 25 May, I think far too much - and (slightly belatedly) give my flatmates a present.
There are eight other people living in the apartment block where me and my loved ones live. As far as I can see, we get on well with each other. We share the laundry room properly with a washing schedule. We are flexible and everyone is understanding in emergencies. It works like a dream.
If only there wasn't the drying room. More precisely: the floor of the drying room. It's incredibly dusty.

Before I hang up the washing, I often have to wipe up numerous thick balls of dust. I don't want the drying machine to blow the dirt into our freshly washed laundry. "Gosh, are we the only ones dusting here?" I sometimes say. But I know that's probably not the case.
Because the employees on the rough floor with the broom are so tedious and time-consuming, the thought still haunts me regularly. During the monotonous sweeping - coincidentally on the day of the neighbour on 25 May - I start to ponder. The problem won't go away on its own.
Maybe it's Neighbours' Day that gives me the brilliant idea: I'm part of the problem, not the solution. Because I don't sweep the floor after I've done the washing. I leave a dusty floor.
The solution is:
- I have to turn the situation around. It should be normal for everyone to leave a clean room.
- I have to set a good example. To do this, work must become more comfortable.
- As a devout nerd, I will of course beat the problem to death with technology.
The theory...
If you're thinking about a robot hoover, then we're brothers in spirit. The thought has crossed my mind too. It would have an ideal area down there: the area is rectangular and has no obstacles apart from a table. But the price is a problem: even though the cheapest robot slave now costs just under 200 francs, the investment is still too high for me.
So I click over to the standard hoovers. And then I do what I never do: I sort the products by price and pick one of the cheapest models. I examine the product briefly. Then I click on "order" without batting an eyelid.

The device only has one review from other users for a measly 60 francs, and it's mediocre. A purchase into the blue. In the worst case scenario, 60 francs are gone and I leave a negative review. A justifiable deal.
The task is undemanding. On paper, the cheap vacuum cleaner can do exactly what I want it to do:
- It is handy
- It can be operated while standing upright
- It's easy to use: there are only three buttons
- It has no follow-up costs thanks to the bagless design
...and the practice
Three days later, I carry the handy box into our laundry room. There's not much in the packaging:
- the vacuum cleaner with dirt container
- an extension tube
- a hoover foot
- a brush
- the operating instructions

The brush disappears straight back into the box. We don't need it. Just like the operating instructions, because the vacuum cleaner has three self-explanatory buttons: on/off, release dust container and open dust container. The laundry room doesn't look all that dirty, but I'm so excited right now that I want to try out the appliance straight away. With the stopwatch, of course.
First thing I learnt: I'm much faster than in manual mode. Although the 22-centimetre foot is significantly narrower than that of our "big" hoover in the flat (28 cm), the work is still done quickly. The 6x4 metre area is cleaned in 2:30 minutes.

Second learning: Although the drying room doesn't appear to be that dirty, there's quite a lot of dirt. And yet I had only mopped it by hand three days earlier!
Conclusion
What can I say? I've already spent more money on much more stupid things. A rough estimate: I save five minutes a week doing a tedious job. If I paid myself 20 francs per hour, the vacuum cleaner would pay for itself within 36 weeks. The investment is already a complete success for me.
Of course, the appliance also has its shortcomings: For me, a HEPA filter is actually a must for a hoover. Given the situation, I neglect this criterion. The vacuum cleaner also disqualifies itself as a main appliance due to its small dirt container: I visibly filled it in three minutes in the not-so-dusty laundry room.
I'm not exactly happy with the volume of the SZ-1918. It's not incredibly loud, but I'm spoilt by our UltraSilencer, whose name says it all. Given the amazingly powerful suction power of this tiny vacuum cleaner, that's okay. It vacuums away dust, crumbs and small stones in no time at all. For 60 francs, you have to make compromises somewhere.
Only one question remains: Will my master plan work and will my flatmates pick up the appliance? I'm a little reluctant to wash any more of our property's dirty laundry in public. Let's do it this way: I'll leave a short update here in a month's time on how things are going.
Update 23 August
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I'm the master tamer at the flea circus that is the editorial team, a nine-to-five writer and 24/7 dad. Technology, computers and hi-fi make me tick. On top of that, I’m a rain-or-shine cyclist and generally in a good mood.