Wednesday 23 April 2014

T – Tea Maid

I’ve been in the maid game for a long time.  I’ve been a regular maid, scullery maid, and even a minute maid, but nothing compares to the thrill of being a tea maid.

What’s so great about being a tea maid when compared to other types of maid?  You don’t have to wear the frilly uniform for starters.  Not that I mind the uniform, it’s just the hurtful comments that people tend to make, especially when they tell me that I don’t have the legs to pull it off.  Being a tea maid is definitely better for my self-esteem.

I always found the work very rewarding.  I used to love seeing people sipping on my warm, murky excretions.  They never thanked me verbally, but the satisfied smacks of their lips as my piping hot liquid slid down their gullet is thanks enough.

Being a tea maid was a career that I could see myself doing for life.  Considering the vast scatter-diagram that is my employment history, you could say that was quite a commitment on my part.  I would always work extra hours without overtime.  In fact, I was quite called upon to serve tea throughout the night to my benevolent employer.  I make tea, therefore I am.



However, one fateful day was to change everything.  My master, in a drowsy stupor after one too many early morning starts, started tugging at my arm, begging me for a delicious cup of tea like a horny drunk begging for a rub.  In his haste, he managed to break my arm.

I felt violated.  I’d never been treated like this before.  But most of all, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to perform my tea making duties to the best of my ability.  Making tea to a satisfactory degree while missing an arm was far more difficult than I thought it would be.  My employers were not particularly satisfied with the tea I mustered.  Gone were those satisfied slurps that I lived for, instead replaced by grimaces and spluttering.  I struggled to mix the milk properly, leaving a creamy residue around the rim of every mug.  I didn’t get any sick leave to recover, nor did I want it.  Every effort I made to improve my tea seemed to just make things worse.

That weekend, I was minding my own business by the fridge, when the master returned home.  He set down a shiny new box on the kitchen counter and began tearing into it with eager anticipation.  I couldn’t quite see what was being unwrapped, but I watched with keen interest until the master finished the unboxing and stood back.  I was shocked.  They’d bought another tea maid!  A shinier one which could make tea quicker than I ever could when I was healthy!

Before I could wrap my head around this betrayal, I was promptly stuffed in the now empty box.  That was the last time I saw the master, and the last time I saw daylight.  After some banging around, I don’t think I’m inside anymore.  I can hear seagulls in the distance, and there’s a strange smell of soiled nappies wafting through the air.  If I had to guess, I’d say that I have been thrown away and discarded like a broken appliance.  My life serves no purpose anymore, and certainly serves no more tea.

13 comments:

  1. Don't let one bad experience tarnish a promising career in tea service. It's important...at least that's what I tell those hippie automatons down at Starbucks. Shampoo your hair, hippies! What, there's not enough room in Portland, you have to infect my corner of the universe? Take your bad tattoos, questionable hygiene and non-prescription glasses to a place that tolerates calling caffeine jockeys "baristas"!
    Sorry, I blacked out for a second, what happened? Oh, yeah, there's still a career in being a meter maid if you're still looking for maid type duties.

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    1. Hey hey, let's not drag Portland into this. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that Seattle is the city that infested the world with Starbucks. Not us. However, "bad tattoos, questionable hygiene and non-prescription glasses to a place that tolerates calling caffeine jockeys "baristas" is dead on Portland.

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    2. I won't have territorial fighting on this Blog! Not unless you're a scumball from Dagenham. Only then will I allow open mockery.

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  2. Well at least now you can pursue your dream career of being recycled for a living.

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    1. I did live in a bottlebank for a while, for reasons totally unrelated to this Blog.

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  3. I hope the next installment is, "U - Underappreciated Tea Maid". Though, I suppose that's not an occupation many would be eager to pursue.

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    1. I think I'm underappreciated in all my jobs. I never get thank you cards. I sometimes get thank you guards though, who arrive to escort me.off of the premises.

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  4. I once owned one of the mechanical boxes that make tea and all i can say is dont worry those mechanical tea making devices are rubbish, your master will return and be scrambling over the mountains of squalid rubbish faster than you can say . . . . I would like a little Earl Grey to cheer me up and give me that warm tingling feeling inside. . . . . .

    I will say one more thing about those mechanical tea making things, when they go wrong they fill your bedroom with steam and hot water then fuse the lights causing much shouting, swearing, falling over and scolding . . . . . after wish you need a man with a teapot.

    Did I say teapot. . . . . .DAMN

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    1. Thank you for your support. Do you have a JCB you could use to dig me out? There's a good sport.

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  5. I don't think I've ever gotten misty-eyes over an old appliance before. Sniff...

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    1. I got misty-eyed after my dehumidifier broke down. I had to learn to blink again, like a savage.

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  6. These people are bastards, they don't deserve you. Or your tea! x

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    1. My milky tea brings all the boys to the yard...

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