Window of Opportunity came with a Squeegee

Thursday broke hazy and gray, the mercury lodged at the freezing mark with no sign of the sun. The idea of standing outside with a bucket of water in a brisk wind could not have been less inviting. But there was Art Biggs, giving the soap-and-squeegee treatment to every shop window in the sprawling Westgate Centre in Lakewood. "Days like this are pretty brutal," he said. "But you know? I love this job." Like long-distance trucking or driving a combine, washing windows offers a certain isolation that invites introspection. "I have lots of time to spend inside my own head," Biggs said. "There's always time to be daydreaming or mulling over current events." Sometimes he listens to audio books, but generally it's just him and the Zen of soaping windows and fanning a squeegee across them.
At 39, Biggs, who grew up in Littleton, has been in the trade for 15 years. After graduating from Metropolitan State College of Denver with a history degree, he found himself working a dead-end retail job. Then one day, a revelation. "A window washer walked in and went to work," Biggs said. "He was just ecstatically happy, almost like he was on some religious high. And he made more money in 20 minutes than I did in three hours. "I thought, 'Hey, he may be on to something.' " Soon enough, Biggs walked into a Home Depot and bought a window-washing kit: squeegees, mops, detergent (he prefers Dawn) and a bucket. The tools of the trade don't get much simpler unless you shovel snow for a living. "I went out and got my first customer that week," he said. "It was a Mail Boxes Etc. store."
Today, Biggs, married with one daughter, has 65 commercial clients and serves 100 homes. He's insured to work up to 30 feet off the ground, "so basically a Denver square is my limit." He charges $45 an hour, working 50 hours a week in warm weather and 30 hours from January to March. "Basically I have a nice middle-class income," he said. So far, it's been recession- proof.
The job has its hazards. Biggs has never fallen off a ladder, but he has had them shift on him. "It's like being on an amusement park ride and have something go wrong." Then there are the wasps. "You'll be reaching into a window well and get nailed four or five times," he said. "That's when I lose my live-and-let-live perspective." Then winter arrives and you arrive at work on a frigid day only to find you have left your waterproof gloves at home.
But there are perks: working outside, a flexible schedule that gives him time to spend with his daughter, who is autistic. Sometimes he even has an audience. "Kids are hilarious," he said. "They're just fascinated. Sometimes I hand them the squeegee and let them go to work. "A few of the parents are a little reserved — it's not the career path they want the kids to take — but other parents get into it: 'That's great, honey; now you can come home and do our windows.' " I asked Biggs what the job has given him. "I think my profession enables me to see the world from both sides of the fishbowl," he said. "I have come to love this city and its people. I feel like I am in some great theatrical work every day. "Kind of like 'Our Town.' " With squeegees.