Once I was blissfully oblivious to public restrooms, except the obvious offenders. After spending a morning with Cindy Bergstrom, owner/operator of Lone Tree's Sparkling Image, I will never look at bathrooms the same again.

Did you know some men pick their noses at urinals? Tagging along on Bergstrom's rounds cleaning and sanitizing, I saw multiple bits of hardened evidence on the walls. She says it's a detail general janitorial services or restaurant staff sometimes miss.

Bergstrom uses a car-washing analogy describing her deep-cleaning: You can just spray the gunk off or you can get full detailing. On a weekly hygiene clean, she sprays cleaner, EPA-regulated sanitizer (yes, on trash cans, partition tops, dispensers, and the dreaded door handles, too), pours acid in urinals to break up calcium deposits, finishing with odor-controlling enzymes and polish for shiny stuff. She is especially fastidious with changing tables, citing frequent neglect.

A self-described Latrine Queen, she moves fast enough to get 4-5 different clients done before 11 am, Monday through Saturday. She attributes her good health (despite constant exposure to germs people fear most) to a good immune system and drinking lots of water, staying hydrated and flushing toxins.

The monthly deep clean (a three-hour job) involves cleaning floors and walls with a mechanical beast called the Sparkilizer. "Winter is the worst season," says John, an employee (or Urinal Colonel - hey, she said it, not me) since her business' genesis four years ago. Not that the roaring sprayer/scrubber/shop vac can't handle muddy boot prints on tile, but wrangling it through poorly plowed parking lots is difficult.

He also acknowledged cleaner bar restroom walls since the no smoking ordinance took effect July 2006. "The water runoff was a lot more yellow with nicotine."

Bergstrom confirmed bars still have the highest puke incidence, though. Wadded wet toilet paper stuck to ceilings occurs in more kid-oriented establishments.

Bergstrom and her partner have lived in Lone Tree ten years. Some of her clients are local restaurants, but her territory spans from Colorado Springs to Fort Collins. She greets managers and employees amiably. I noted they respect her sanitizing skills enough to shake her hand. She returns the compliment on their clean kitchens, saying, "There's an old saying in the restaurant business: If the bathroom's dirty, the kitchen's worse."

Although Bergstrom estimates 85% of her clients are restaurants, her contracts include municipalities like Aurora parks and pool locker rooms (graffiti removal included) and retail businesses. I saw the Sparkilizer in action at a Discount Tire. She's tendered a proposal to clean the pending Lone Tree Elementary Park flush toilet, one of my favorite City Council topics.

With the service industry economy coinciding with public hygiene awareness, Bergstrom feels her year-long franchise search led her to the right business after many years as an oil industry general manager. "I'm a corporate dropout," she says, "frustrated with corporate culture."

Cleaning up other people's excrement may be a dirty job, but as mothers know, someone has to do it. I just wish she hadn't shown me all those corners everybody else misses.