What the hell, people?! So this morning she brings me in my bloody mary and calamari, and real nice I go "thank you, Conchita!" She snaps, tears off her little paper tiara and apron, and yells "I quit for you! I no take this anymore!" Then she storms out. A little while later after I finish my breakfast and do a little light reading, I go down to her quarters to see what was goin' on and she's completely cleared out! All she left was that paper tiara, crumpled in the wastebasket.
Fine, then! She's been real on edge lately anyhow, it was makin' me kind of uncomfortable. She would get especially mad when I would try to be polite to her and speak a little Spanish. I guess she thought my attempts to use her language were insulting! A sample conversation would go something like this, tell me if you can figure out what her problem was:
RAY: Hola, Conchita! Como te toto polopo!
CONCHITA: Hola, Señor Ray.
RAY: [smiling, beaming nicely] Thanks de the sausages, Conchita!
CONCHITA: [purses lips] ...de nada.
[Conchita turns and walks stiffly out before I can ask her to make me eggs]
See what I mean? Just all kinds of on edge. She's a little bit older, maybe she was goin' through the Change. Anyhow, I don't have time for that. I'm thinkin' of getting me a butler anyhow, that would be rad. Dude could lay all my clothes out on a dressing table, have guests ("callers") wait for me in the parlor (I should build a parlor!), all of that butler stuff. I think a dude needs a butler, not a maid. It's more masculine. A confidant. Maybe I'll call Bono and see how he does it.