Thus, I composed the following notice to be posted:
"All reading this have been invited to be servants in my manor...of which, I am also butler...please come by Elder Manor, state the position you would like to occupy and your qualifications for doing so.
"Yr most attentive and endearing master,"
By the time I had returned to my desk, I had already hired a scullery maid, a wine and whisky steward ("I will bring to the position years of experience and a great deal of enthusiasm.") and a young lady who would not watch alien movies. With this last hiree, I wasn't convinced her CV fit the tasks of manor life, but better to fatten the hog before trimming it. In passing, she noted her flexibility.
I then ascended to apprise milady of these latest hires.
"I've just come from town where I noticed this notice the butler put up."
"I put that up."
"Well really?! I can hardly tell your handwriting apart."
"It was printed."
"Aha. In that case, you may tell yourself that I will help out. I suppose I could spare a bit of time to be the official Self-portrait Photographer of the Manor."
At this point, the doorbell rang. Milady and I waited. I went downstairs to answer it.
A young woman stood there. "I would like to be the household exchequer, because I’m good at counting loose change, and if you pull rank on me as master, I can pull rank back on you as butler." Well, this was just the sort of logic we needed more of around here.
I searched in vain for the butler. It was past 5pm. I immediately sent a dispatch: "OK, butler. You've really unimpressed me. This mule cart on the other side of the world does me no good. Your days may be numbered."
Now, two new gals were in the salon chatting with the flexible chick who won't watch alien films. The first one stood. "I’ll be your bootlicker."
"And?" I said, pointing at my feet.
"Uh-unh. You're wearing sneakers."
I gave her a sugarcube to put in her mouth, while I introduced myself to the other girl.
"I've always wanted to be hair fluffer. I don't think it would be as demanding as full-on hair stylist. Also, being hair fluffer would ensure that the hair that I fluff would be clean enough to be fluffable. I have experience fluffing my own hair, and have especially good hair fluffing technique."
I pointed to the top of my head, and wagged my finger. She pouted as she slouched toward the front door. In this firing frenzy, I told the flexible girl who avoided alien flicks her "services" would not be needed either. When I approached the bootlicker, she opened her mouth. The sugarcube was gone. This one still had potential.
At this point, the butler appeared behind me with two school girls, one blonde and one brunette. "I'm here about the hiring notice."
"But, you're already the butler."
"Who's doing the hiring in my absence?"
"I am."
"Yeah, and I suppose you've been doing some drinking and entertaining on your own too?"
"Now, hold on, butler."
"Don't call me that. I would like to be Chief Manner Maker of Elder Manor. Then I can advise all residents on how best to hold their drinks."
"OK. How should the residents hold their breakfast juice? Got you on that one, didn't I, sleepyhead?" I turned and made my exeunt.
Outside, a slow-talking lass approached me and said, "I'll keep the dogs and polish the rifles." I consulted my
Big Aristocratic Book of Manor Jobs, and found that role fell under "kennelman". A footnote noted this person should be taciturn. Boo-yah, achieved!
Next, I hired a French maid for milady. She said she came complete with costume and nightly delivery of milk and cookies. I also saw her toenails were painted, so that was one less thing keeping the butler around.
Around sundown, a derelict showed up by the servants' entrance. "I would like to be the sex slave for all the hot chicks in your mansion." I pondered this for a second. If he was to be a sex
slave, I would probably get my money's worth out of him. I consulted the exchequer, and she agreed; he was invited inside.
Upon returning to my chambers to change for the evening's entertainment, I found a note from an old school chum on my bureau.
"I think I would make a good valet. I must insist it be pronounced the British way, with a t at the end, not val-ay. I cannot be infinitely more clever than you, or any
more clever than you. I cannot, and do not care to, keep you out of trouble. Several qualities and characteristics that recommend me to the job: I have always been more attentive to shoes than you.
(The bootlicker would be pleased with this!) I like wearing suits and almost never have the opportunity. I'm not sneaky. I'll tell you up front that I will drink about a third of your whiskey. And I won't limit myself to the cheap stuff."
Those last parts made me think he might be easing himself into a butler's position. I chafed a little, but eventually found him burrowing through my bureau, and hired him.
I ascended to tell milady I'd hired a valet (hard t) for myself.
"Well really now! You already have a valet and I have only one maid! Also the butler desperately needs you to tie his bowtie for this evening's entertainment."
Damn butler! So, I hired another maid to keep things tidy. She said that her husband showed interest in being a chauffeur, and introduced us.
"So, you'd like to be a chauffeur? Do you have a car?"
"No."
"Well, that's not really the job for you, is it?"
"Uh, chauffeurs drive other people's cars."
"Well, then go into town, steal a car and drive that one around."
The exchequer applauded my pecuniary savvy on this point, and showed me 89 cents she recovered from under a sofa. My valet (hard t) wanted to be sure the chauffeur provided valet (hard t) parking for guests.
I found my wine and whisky steward and instructed him to bring one-third of my supply to my quarters immediately.
"The only alcohol on the premises is a half-bottle of Paul Masson brandy and a few drops of vanilla extract. The rest is in the hands of a small fellow accompanied by both a blonde and a brunette midget."
"Oh, midgets are they? Anyway, that's the butler."
"Then I should be having this conversation with him?"
"Not so fast, steward. As long as I am acting butler, he will drink and entertain. In the interim, I'll try to get money for you from the exchequer." She handed over the 89 cents.
"So, I'm to bring one-third of no whiskey to milord's quarters?"
"Yes."
"Gladly." My valet went upstairs to wait impatiently.
Before I could see to milady about the dearth of whisky for the servants, whom I'd grown quite found of in my tenure as head butler (Yes, I believe I had, by this point, risen above ordinary butler), I had a note thrust into my hand. It read:
"I should be the groundskeeper. My current qualifications are these: I have a beard. I'm tired of workign indoors." A beard AND poor spelling! A groundskeeper he must be! And these were only his current qualifications by his own admissions. Who knows what other qualifications might pop up?
Milady rang for me and I hastened to her chambers. The two maids were there, tidying and cookieing at will.
"The evening's entertainment is just about to begin. My hair is now so wonderfully clean, I wish to take a photograph of myself, if it doesn't interfere with my schedule."
"Your schedule appears to have a few free minutes in it."
"Wonderful! Which of you maids will fluff my hair for me?"
They both gazed down, wringing their hands. They spoke in unison. "I'm afraid I have no experience in hair-fluffing, milady."
I was on the verge of slapping myself. Had I really made such a mockery of my butlery to have overlooked such a simple detail in milady's life? And after a moment, I spoke.
"I'm sorry, milady, but your time as Self-portrait Photographer has past. You are now needed as Lady of the Manor."
"Oh! Perhaps it's for the best. Very well, butler-Lord, you may announce this evening's entertainment. We shall be screening James Cameron's sci-fi hit,
Aliens."
At least I dodged a bullet on that one. Still, this butler was nowhere to be found, along with his miniature consorts. And now with all the new hirees--lower
and upper minion, someone had to delegate all the work of the house. And frankly,
Aliens is too good a film to pass up.
