They made a date to make a date. Same signal—that extra earring—and if Bill could meet her they would set a time.
Bill worked a lot of hours. Things at work seemed to be settling in and settling in nicely. Rosie and Edelgarde were happily working hard. Together with Jo Ann they were making a lot of money, and at least for a bit even Caesar seemed pleased.
Whether Caesar was pleased or not, he should have been. The numbers were better than great and all food coming out of the kitchen was, at least from Bill’s and the girls’ standpoints, right on point, good at the very least and mostly excellent. Since he’d been there, at least from what he knew, Bill had no food complaints other than a couple of under-cooked steaks. This was a good thing. Under-cooked steaks were a fact of life for a broiler cook. They happened, just happened. Under-cooked steaks happened for many reasons, and while most everyone thought they happened due to the cook’s error, that was not necessarily the case. Bill knew this clearly.
Bill watched Caesar always. He did not trust him and never would, never could. Just because he had not gone at Bill since Jo Ann gave Bill forewarning didn’t mean he wouldn’t, didn’t mean he’d forgotten or even abandoned his plan. No, Caesar was a bully plain and simple, no different from the bully Bill had encountered in the workhouse. That bully could wait and watch and plot his moves. Bill knew that Caesar had time, still a little more than two months until Bill’s probation was over.
Bill promised himself he’d never let his guard down.
Jo Ann was working later almost every night now. This was good for Bill because it became more difficult for Rosie and Edelgarde to make moves on Bill. Bill just about never made moves on them. Only at times when he was particularly horny or for some reason they managed to make him so would he initiate something.
Rosie knew how.
Edelgarde knew how.
Both of them knew it wasn’t generally with words though it could be.
Purple lips and nails could do it. Leaning over excessively and letting a nipple flash could do it. Bending over and letting him see their crease could do it. These things did not always do it, but they could.
Hard, steady work and sweat could do it too. When they were very busy, busy on top of being busy, Bill sometimes got to the point of just wanting some fun. That’s when he would invite one of them to the distant bathroom they used. That’s when, now that he knew he could have either one of them any time he wanted, he became ornery and made demands for what he wanted, made sure they fulfilled his wants. Bill reasoned that if he were going to do this sort of thing he might as well get what he wanted.
Millie was quiet too. Millie was quiet because she was also very busy. The hotel was running at full capacity, a big money-maker for the chain. Full occupancy nearly all the time coupled with a full banquet schedule and booming restaurant outlet meant lots and lots of linens. Lots of linens and lots of uniforms made for lots of work for Millie and the girls behind the scenes in the laundry.
Worse. Two other things were in play. First, Millie’s boss was in-house just about 24/7. Many nights she did not go home, slept over either in one of the small, only-sold-when-there-were-no-other-rooms corner rooms with strange angles or on the sofa she’d put in Millie’s room off behind the racks of uniforms. She slept on that sofa, came in late to sleep and went out early to work.
Second, she’d told Millie to cool it with Bill. She’d told her she didn’t have to cut it off, just simply cool it a bit.
By Peter Weiss
I like to think of myself as a modest person. In fact, I’m more self-deprecating than braggadocios. I don’t toot my personal horn that often and underplay my achievements. I’m more embarrassed by compliments than most people, and I’m not all that socially graceful. I keep to myself as much as I can.
That’s me.
I’ve lived a modest life. I’ve earned a modest salary all my life and live now with my family on a modest pension and a modest amount of social security. I earned both. The social security I earned by working since I was old enough to work by law, and before that with my brother on his paper routes. He took two of them when he was eleven so I could do one and we could split the money. The pension I earned by teaching for more than 30 years.
We live in a modest home. We wear modest clothes, not name brands. We could maybe afford name brands, but we’d have to cut corners somewhere else. I buy refurbished computers and not even current state-of-the-art-ones at that, just solid, refurbished, durable computers.
We have second or third generation cell phones. I have a galaxy S8 plus that I bought refurbished now close to two years ago when the S9s were out and the S10s just coming out. We don’t eat steak or expensive sea food much and when we dine out, it’s the normal “family” places, not the fancy places. My $24,000 freezer isn’t filled with $12/pint ice cream. Oh, I forgot, that’s Nancy Pelosi.
I retired six years ago. But on our modest income I couldn’t afford to stay retired. So last year I went back to work.
This morning I mailed out a two thousand dollar “estimated tax” check to the IRS. I only work part time but the people who do my taxes said I have to pay quarterly taxes now, that the wonderful government you see on TV not protecting us from the anarchists burning up our cities and looting our stores is going to take about 30% of my part-time income.
I know all you regular people feel my pain. I know you’re thinking what I’m thinking. Part of that $2000 will be used to pay for welfare, medical care, food, housing, education and clothing for illegal aliens. Part of that $2000 will go to pay the salaries of people like Chuckie-boy Schumer and Nancy twenty-four-thousand-dollar-freezer-twelve-dollar-a-pint-ice-cream Pelosi, the one who just had to have her hair done in the closed salon. She’s the modern-day Marie Antoinette.
And so it goes.
I write this modest little piece that will be read by a modest number of people who already recognize the vanity, immodesty and hypocrisy of those who would, in their own hubris and narcissism, call themselves our Democrat leaders.
By Peter Weiss
So if you weren’t from this country and you were looking at it, maybe like the leader of a country like China or Russia, you might ask this question. If you are a regular, tax-paying American citizen or legal resident following the law and paying your taxes, you might think the same thing.
Why?
Consider what’s being proposed by guess who? Oh, you know, those crazy, beyond-despicable Dems.
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- No borders, or at the very least, very open ones.
- Free health care, college and more for everyone who gets here—but only if you qualify, so if you pay taxes for this, you don’t qualify and have to pay for yourselves as well as them.
- Defunding even abolishing the police.
- No cash bail when arrested, even for violent crimes
- Allowing criminals, even violent ones, out of jail.
- Not deporting illegals even when guilty of violent crimes
And on and on…and that doesn’t even start on the economy, the press which doesn’t tell us the truth and even Joe Biden. Why the other day, not yesterday, he said if you make less than 400K your taxes won’t be raised. Yesterday, he said if you make less than 125K they won’t be raised. Which is it?
China and Russia are laughing. The Dems are purposefully destroying us. Middle America, the ones paying for everything are crying, shaking their heads and asking: how crazy are we?
