Read Online Guestward Ho! by Patrick Dennis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Patrick Dennis
Tags: Memoir
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sister?" the man said.
I came right down to earth. "Nothing else but, brother," I said.
"Then you know all about kitchen work, I s'pose?"
"Everything about it, more's the pity," I said. "That's why we want to hire . . ."
"Yuh done chambermaid work?"
"It seems as though I've done nothing else," I said.
Then he turned to Bill. "An' you—you bin drivin' and doih' outside work an' takin' care o' horses an' all that stuff?"
"Oh, yes," Bill said. "In fact, so much so that we thought we'd come to you and see if we could get some sort of. . ."
"How long yuh bin workin' on ranches?"
"About a month," Bill said.
"But it seems much longer," I added with a winning smile.
"That ain't much experience, folks. But I think maybe I kin place yuh at the Brush Ranch up around Santa Fe or . . ."
"But they're competitors of ours," Bill murmured.
The man went right on: ". . . er else with a crazy pair of kids from Noo York who's taken over Miz Huntin house's ranch. They oughta be needin' some help, if they ain't dead by now."
"Well, they ain't dead by now," I bellowed. "But they're pretty damned close to it! We happen to be that crazy pair of kids from New York and we can do just fine without any help from the likes of you!" Sweeping an imaginary sable cape around me, I got up and marched out of his office, trying to look as much like the grande dame and as little like the tweeny as possible.
From the classified section of the Albuquerque tele phone directory we located another agency where a brisk, efficient woman, wearing a suit that cost about half again as much as mine, took us over the hurdles of domestic employment with breezy dispatch.
Yes, she had all sorts of help. Yes, she could send us experienced cooks, waiters, waitresses, chambermaids, bellmen, bartenders—almost anything we wanted. Did we need a lifeguard for the pool? Did we have any preference as to sex, size, and color? No, there'd be no waiting. Oh, mercy, there were absolute throngs of perfectly trained servants waiting to be interviewed in the next room. We could undoubtedly pick out just what we wanted and take it right home with us—cash and carry.
I thought she was having hallucinations—or that I was—but then she explained that the Arizona season was over and that lots of experienced help regularly showed up for the New Mexico season. That suited us right down to the ground. She swung open a door and there was a perfect harem of household help, its collective hands folded in its collective lap.
Like all other women, I pride myself on my infallible intuition, and it is infallible in that it works exclusively in reverse gear. Put a pickpocket, an arsonist, a second-story man, or a dope pusher into a room with five thousand solid citizens and I'll go straight to the culprit and select him as the one honest man in the whole bunch. But do you think I'll ever admit it at the time I'm doing the choos ing? Not on your tintype!
"How about that one?" Bill muttered, pointing to a trim-looking woman of about thirty.
"Uh-uh," I breathed, "she's too crisp and efficient-look ing. She'd be like having a machine in the kitchen. She doesn't look quite folksy enough for a ranch."
"Or those two?" Bill whispered, indicating the most British-looking pair I've ever seen.
"Nope, there again—too formal for a ranch. You'd never be able to get near them and I really do aim to wind up with one of those jolly, over-upholstered women like Minnie."
Bill nodded to a yellow-haired Scandinavian couple. She was overstuffed. "Do you think, maybe, those . . ."
"Bill!" I gasped. "Just look! Aren't those two perfect?"
So, like a homing pigeon, I fluttered down a row of flawless servants and fit upon Buck and Evangeline. She cooked, and he—well, he was just as handy as a pocket in a shirt. They'd worked in hundreds of places. Too many, I should have realized, to have had a tenure of more than a month in any one of them. And reasonable! Oh my, but weren't they inexpensive!
I came right down to earth. "Nothing else but, brother," I said.
"Then you know all about kitchen work, I s'pose?"
"Everything about it, more's the pity," I said. "That's why we want to hire . . ."
"Yuh done chambermaid work?"
"It seems as though I've done nothing else," I said.
Then he turned to Bill. "An' you—you bin drivin' and doih' outside work an' takin' care o' horses an' all that stuff?"
"Oh, yes," Bill said. "In fact, so much so that we thought we'd come to you and see if we could get some sort of. . ."
"How long yuh bin workin' on ranches?"
"About a month," Bill said.
"But it seems much longer," I added with a winning smile.
"That ain't much experience, folks. But I think maybe I kin place yuh at the Brush Ranch up around Santa Fe or . . ."
"But they're competitors of ours," Bill murmured.
The man went right on: ". . . er else with a crazy pair of kids from Noo York who's taken over Miz Huntin house's ranch. They oughta be needin' some help, if they ain't dead by now."
"Well, they ain't dead by now," I bellowed. "But they're pretty damned close to it! We happen to be that crazy pair of kids from New York and we can do just fine without any help from the likes of you!" Sweeping an imaginary sable cape around me, I got up and marched out of his office, trying to look as much like the grande dame and as little like the tweeny as possible.
From the classified section of the Albuquerque tele phone directory we located another agency where a brisk, efficient woman, wearing a suit that cost about half again as much as mine, took us over the hurdles of domestic employment with breezy dispatch.
Yes, she had all sorts of help. Yes, she could send us experienced cooks, waiters, waitresses, chambermaids, bellmen, bartenders—almost anything we wanted. Did we need a lifeguard for the pool? Did we have any preference as to sex, size, and color? No, there'd be no waiting. Oh, mercy, there were absolute throngs of perfectly trained servants waiting to be interviewed in the next room. We could undoubtedly pick out just what we wanted and take it right home with us—cash and carry.
I thought she was having hallucinations—or that I was—but then she explained that the Arizona season was over and that lots of experienced help regularly showed up for the New Mexico season. That suited us right down to the ground. She swung open a door and there was a perfect harem of household help, its collective hands folded in its collective lap.
Like all other women, I pride myself on my infallible intuition, and it is infallible in that it works exclusively in reverse gear. Put a pickpocket, an arsonist, a second-story man, or a dope pusher into a room with five thousand solid citizens and I'll go straight to the culprit and select him as the one honest man in the whole bunch. But do you think I'll ever admit it at the time I'm doing the choos ing? Not on your tintype!
"How about that one?" Bill muttered, pointing to a trim-looking woman of about thirty.
"Uh-uh," I breathed, "she's too crisp and efficient-look ing. She'd be like having a machine in the kitchen. She doesn't look quite folksy enough for a ranch."
"Or those two?" Bill whispered, indicating the most British-looking pair I've ever seen.
"Nope, there again—too formal for a ranch. You'd never be able to get near them and I really do aim to wind up with one of those jolly, over-upholstered women like Minnie."
Bill nodded to a yellow-haired Scandinavian couple. She was overstuffed. "Do you think, maybe, those . . ."
"Bill!" I gasped. "Just look! Aren't those two perfect?"
So, like a homing pigeon, I fluttered down a row of flawless servants and fit upon Buck and Evangeline. She cooked, and he—well, he was just as handy as a pocket in a shirt. They'd worked in hundreds of places. Too many, I should have realized, to have had a tenure of more than a month in any one of them. And reasonable! Oh my, but weren't they inexpensive!
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