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my skin was still pretty blotchy. And while I've never been quite sure what the
typical American woman wanted, a long series of hard knocks had taught me that
whatever it is, it ain't me. Girls just don't look at me like that. And
certainly not the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.
"Yeah. Sure. I could use a bite to eat." I tried grinning back at her and Barb
looked ecstatic.
"Very good, sir. The banquet hall is this way."
"Banquet? No. No. Please, Barb, just, just something small and informal."
"As you wish, sir. Anything in particular? Polish? Syrian? Chinese?"
"Chinese, I guess."
"Yes sir. The Confucian Room is this way."
Barb led me through an entrance hall that would have put a Hyatt hotel to shame,
and then down a long corridor.
It was obvious that the building had been built with me in mind. All of the
doorways were at least eight feet high, and all of the furniture was properly
oversized.
She led me into a candle lit room. It was decorated with a lot of jade, Ming
dynasty, maybe, and what looked like Shang bronze work. It was all imitation, of
course, because it all looked new. The window overlooked an enclosed garden that
was more Japanese than Chinese, but the total effect was stunning.
Also stunning was the tiny Oriental girl who was kneeling at my feet undoing my
shoelaces. After that she started taking off the rest of my clothes. For a while
there I wasn't sure when she was going to stop undressing me, but I was soon
led barefoot, and without my tie or jacket to a low table.
Barb was still standing at the door, like she was waiting for something.
"Would you, uh, care to join me?" I said.
And Barb was grinning ecstatically again.
Our ninety-pound waitress (maid?) (servant?) was named Ming Po. I let Barb order
the meal, since I'd been getting along mostly on Big Macs and Gallo Paisano,
which didn't seem to be quite appropriate. I missed the name of the wine Barb
picked, but Mr. Gallo has some catching up to do.
Ming Po had this habit of kneeling behind a pierced screen, watching to see if
we wanted anything. When she went to get the food, I said to Barb, "You know,
she's as pretty as that ballerina on the plane."
"Yes, sir." She was dead cold again. "You must mean Gloria McCluskey."
"I didn't catch her name."
"She's an awful social climber."
That sort of killed conversation until halfway through the meal. I was all out
of things to say, and I finally figured out that Barb didn't feel free to speak
until spoken to.
"Look, you mentioned a staff. Could you tell me about it?" I said.
"Yes, sir. There are nine personal secretaries. . . ."
"Nine? You mean I have a whole steno pool?"
"No, sir. The steno pool comes under the administrative section of your
laboratory. That's not under my jurisdiction. You have nine secretaries."
"Uh, why so many?"
"To maintain continuity, sir. We were told that you preferred to work rather
long and irregular hours. With nine, we can offer you three shifts a day, with
each woman working four days on and two days off. This allows for two
secretaries on duty at all times."
"Like, I need a typist sitting outside my bedroom door?"
"If you wish, sir. Or we can change the schedule if you prefer."
"Uh, no. Let it ride." Therehave been times when I was hot on the track of
something and worked thirty hours straight, and I guess that that's a bit much
to ask somebody else to do. Anyway, I'd hate to make some girl lose her job.
"So, who else do I have?"
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"In the household staff, there are forty-five each in food services and
housekeeping."
"Twenty people on duty all the time? That means that I've got what ninety-nine
people here?"
"There are a hundred on the inside staff, including myself, sir."
"Wow. And you're the only one who is not available at all hours?"
"But I am, sir. I don't sleep. It's the main reason that I was able to get this
position."
I'd heard of people like that, but I'd never met one before. Another thought hit
me halfway through the Peking duck.
"Say, you mean to tell me that an hour ago, there were a hundred people spruced
up and lined up to shake my hand?"
"One hundred twenty-nine, sir. There are thirty more on the gardening staff.
Would you like me to call them back?"
"Uh, no. No. I'll meet them all eventually. I'm just not used to this kind of
attention. I can't understand why it was decided to blow so much money on these
palaces."
"I suppose it's relative, sir. The cost of constructing, furnishing and
maintaining these three 'palaces' was less than one percent of our total budget
for your facility."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I kept quiet.
Toward midnight, Barb showed me the way to the Master's bedroom. Catch that? Not
the master bedroom. Apostrophe Ess. There were two more women in the bedroom.
One was my adolescent dream. The other was better looking.
"Sir, these are Michelle and Carolyn," Barb said.
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