I get out off my Beretta. And slip off my boots and trade them for my mantatory white soled shoes. I straighten my maids uniform which unfortunately wasn't a french maids outfit. I was stuck wearing a white buttonup shirt and black shorts. They were made out of that itchy fabric only found on work clothes.
So I walk to this ornate, yet creepy red door. The door handle was this creepy face that held the handle in his teeth. I was afraid to pull his teeth out so my closed fist hovered over the ornate door. I slowly and quietly knocked on the door. Then I saw the door bell...I rolled my eyes and rang it. I jumped I could hear the door bell from the outside.
Suddenly the door slamed out. A middle age woman wearing a maids uniform peered out and pulled me in. She looked at me anonoyed.
" Why did you ring the door bell?" She said lowly " Never ring the door bell!"
I looked around uncertainly and then just ended up muttering my aplogies.
" It's fine you didn't know, well know you do. I'm Margaret the top floor made. You are Adele the bottom floor made, not including the basement ofcourse"
" Ofcourse" I muttered
But then I found myself muttering " Who cleans the basement?"
" What?" Margaret spat at me
After I wiped my face and raised my eye brows. I muttered " Who cleans the basement?"
" The master does"
Margaret turned away and lead me into an ornate lobby. This guy actually had a loddy! The decor was a little old for my liking. It wasn't grandma decor it was older. It looked like all the furniture had come straight off the boat, if you get my drift. I looked around curiously.
Margaret seemed impressed by my interest and seemed itching for more questions on the decor. I wasn't really interested in the antique road show round up. I was more interested on whether of not there was a tv or music system around here somewhere.
" This house has been in the masters family for at least..."
" Master? He expects us to call him master?" I asked
" Yes. The master pays for exceptional service so I give him exceptional service"
I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. But I wouldn't call anybody master for anything less then twenty bucks an hour plus health and dental.
Margaret showed me around my domain. The kitchen, the library,sitting room and the den...there were some otherrooms but I stopped paying attention when I saw the sound system, cd and vinyal collection in the den. I promptly tried not to think about borrowing some of that music. I tried to focus on Margaret showing me all of the cleaners. I would remember them all later by their pungent smells.
" One more thing, The master values his privacy. You are not to go upstairs or clean any of the rooms upstairs. You are not to talk to the master unless spoken to and you are not to talk at all to the masters companions."
At this point I was ready to kick the master's chauvinst butt. But I refrained and smiled to widely. I needed this job and I looked forward to telling stories about my old rotting master.