BankingPotato
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BankingPotato14 karma
How did you manage to afford being on that lifestyle for that decade? Did you have some odd jobs when you were not in the basement?
BankingPotato14 karma
I read a short story that may be relevant to that, a while ago. I can't remember who the author was, but it might have been Doyle. Anyway, in the story, an American journalist visits an English nobleman and, upon returning to America, publishes a paper about his visit with an offhand comment deriding the butler about how subservient he was. A year or so later, the nobleman visits America and meets the journalist again. The butler later takes the opportunity to set a meeting between them at a bar some place, where the butler, to the surprise of the American journalist, shows up in casual clothing and starts speaking more like a normal person (with slang and such).
The butler is obviously ready for a fight, but first explains what the American journalist had mistaken for subservience: he was a butler and his dignity demanded that he do his job well. This meant taking care of his employer and employer's needs as thoroughly and as carefully as he could and with pride, not like his American counterparts whom he looked upon with disapproval for the way they, in his eyes, half-assed things. To him, service was not a loss of freedom but rather fulfilling his professional role that his employer was paying for to the best of his ability. On his own time, he was obviously still his own man.
I'm not sure if this is what your colleagues meant, but it was an interesting short-story nonetheless. It made me look more closely at my own attitude as an employee.
BankingPotato9 karma
Hey, Tanner! Did you make any friends in the hospital while you were there? Any nurses or doctors you liked and were nice to you?
BankingPotato15 karma
I went to London just to see that stuff, can confirm!
(Well, to see HMS Victory and Sherlock Holmes museum, too.)
But in all seriousness, it was actually pretty intimidating to stand in front of the ceremonial guards. I... I was one of those people who tried to wave shyly and then ran away out of embarrassment. The one I liked was the Cavalry Museum, though. The guys let us touch the horse ("Careful, they might bite.").
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