"Oh, Joshua. Do hurry up with the table setting. There will be twelve people attending the soiree."
Joshua did as he was told, taking six bundles of gilded cutlery, wrapped within silk napkins laced delicately in soft coral. Upon setting each down on the table, he recited a few theories. In the nearly empty dining hall, he muttered things about quantum mechanics and string theory. His maintanance manager overheard this.
"Enough of that talk, help me re-dress the chairs to match the the hostess specifications."
"Yes'm."
--
Beck lugged a large haul today, from room to room, replacing the pent-house linens and making his way to the final destination. Upon arriving at the dining room, he supplied the mistress of events with the new dining room chair covers. They had to be spot treated the night before. Beck was in the cleaning room until two in the morning, scrubbing red wine, sauces, and cheeses out of the arms of the covers.
What got him through this lonesome and tedious work was whenever he took a break, he would get back to working on his most recent thesis paper; a discourse on the recent activity in the metropolitan population and its relationship to the evolution of man.
The highlight of his night was finally removing the stain resulting from some sort of couscous. In retrospect, his MBA was probably going to waste.
--
The guests were arriving, right on time, according to the mistress of services
"Do get on with it, bring those buckets from the hall. Decorum, please!" She chided, rushing through toward the doors to notify the front of house butlers to greet and guide the guests to the dining hall.
"But do so slowly, elegantly. Of course." She would leave him to it and head down the service stairs to meet the head server face-first, shouting immediately upon impact.
"OH GOODNESS! DO avoid this behavior in the future, Tricia! We cannot have you bounding up these stairs like a lugging wildebeast! My scarf!" She bustled off to have her hankie steamed down the way.
Tricia nodded and sighed, apologizing through gritted teeth-- correcting her own scarves and uniform. Her schedule told her that she would be meeting the guests with open eyes and smiles in less than four minutes. And as she began to stretch out her cheeks for more of a perky disposition, she reflected on her years in the chemistry labs in Sweden, and wondered how everyone was fairing since she had to find a job which paid better.
--
"Do you think that they really paint all these paintings, Honey?"
"I bet that one's a print... Hold on, let me touch it."
The butler interrupted, "These pieces are all original works, manufactured the way Giovanni intended, and are beyond a glass which we suggest you not touch. And we're walking..."
"Wonder if he's a real butler... Looks a little thin to me. Are butlers supposed to be fat? BARBRA! C'mere! No, don't worry, your dress will drag anyway. Does that butler look like a fraud to you?"
"Oh, I dunno, looks like he's butlering to me. Hey, what's for dinner by the way?"
"Well, whatever you want, pudding-cup. It's just a matter of choice. We'll spare no expense to serve our little angel whatever she wants."
"Awww, thanks ma. But I don't wanna just take advantage... HEY Do you think that they have goose-stuffed lobster?"
"Ohhh, I hope so! HEY BUTLER, Do you have LOBSTER?!"
The guests lagged behind, and Burton the Butler trudged on, counting the paces it took from one end of the hall to the entrance of the dining hall, supposing that the simulacra that these guests suspected may not be as apparent as their frontal cortex may have suggested.
"Of course, Lady Lottery."
"Hah, that's right. WE'RE ALL GETTIN' LOBSTER!"
"Mom, why DID you change your name?"
"Why not? May as well make it obvious after you win the lottery-- easier to ensure that when someone robs you, people expect it and can jump on the case!"
--
That very night there was a robbery, Lady Lottery left with only her lobster and family, just after the lights went down. Sure, she had savings put in several secret places, but she had a pretty hefty wad of cash on her at the time.
What can she do, though? Times are tough. And what with the service industry full of bitterly over-qualified individuals, it only takes one to find the courage to take from the rich and give to themselves.
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