Guarding the Seagrams Crown Royal
On Monday of this week I thought I had successfully trained the senior man servant to serve two breakfasts.
Alas no. Despite my best efforts to look hungry and neglected I and the chavs were only ever served one breakfast. What was worse, much worse was that because the senior man servant never got up before eight we were all kept waiting for a late breakfast. This was despite my efforts at scragging the bedroom carpet and trying to sleep on senior man servant.
When senior man servant came on Sunday he was wearing his best suit. What I believe to be called ‘Sunday best’. He explained that he had just come from church. Bless. He is of the generation that believes in wearing Sunday best to church. He has a continuing lack of understanding of how people go to church on Sundays wearing jeans.
I could see from his bag that he brought in that he had not brought enough clothes for his four day stay. Man and lady servant asked if they could get his suitcase from the car but what he carried was all that he had brought.
On Tuesday, after our late breakfast, we thought we were going to be abandoned. Senior man servant packed his one small bag, put on his top coat and hat, left the house and drove off without so much as a goodbye. It really was distressing as we did not know if he was going to be back in time to do lunch. My best strategy to relieve stress is to sleep which I did. Just mid-way through a dream about a fresh fish lunch I was disturbed by the front door opening. Blearily I made my way to the landing and saw senior man servant returning.
He had changed out of his suit but he still retained his collar and tie.
Oh, if lady servant could see him now. Over Christmas she bought him some slippers to wear around the house rather than wearing outdoor shoes. These are kept under the telephone table in the hall. Not once during his stay did these slippers move. He would be in so much trouble if lady servant found out.
I am not one for telling tales. I understand in some social groupings this is described as ‘grassing’. However, I did notice that senior man servant did like a glass of whisky most evenings and if man and lady servant look, they will see the decanter has been somewhat depleted. At least he did not find the man servant’s special Seagrams bottle tucked in the back of the drinks cupboard.
My suggestion to the servants, if I could speak to them, would be that they buy a tantalus and keep the key hidden when they go away.
Man and lady servant returned on Thursday afternoon. Oh deep joy, I and the chavs were pleased to see them. I know Jill from twenty one had been in to serve our lunch but there was no harm in trying to swing another one from the servants. Best BAFTA award winning face of hunger and RESULT! Even before they had got all their bags in the door another lunch was being served.
Things are back to normal.