Word: maides
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...think it's unfair that we have to pay as much as the janitors who make six times the wages we do," complained one maid. They want a man who would serve for nothing in the part-time...
...Manhattan court, Mrs. Evyleen R. Cronin, 58, onetime secretary-companion and maid to Tallulah Bankhead, was charged with stealing more than $4,000 from her former employer by raising and forging checks. The money was used, cried the defendant's lawyer, to buy things for Miss Bankhead-"Cocaine, marijuana, liquor, booze, whisky, champagne and sex." Retorted outraged lava-voiced Tallulah: "Of course I drink. But nobody has to kite checks to pay for my liquor." As for dope: "Even if I had been getting it-which I certainly wasn't-do you think I'd have been...
...disapproval of the new trays that have been ordered for the mess halls. I am distressed by your opposition to progress, because, although I seldom complain against the local mess hall (in fact, I take solace in the prospect that the children who can stand no cooking but their maid's or mother's, will soon eat in mess halls that will make them yearn for Ptomaine Tessie and the K-house Consolidated), I have been mightily distressed by the present tray situation...
...maid was sitting on the couch reading the paper; he put the mail on the floor and asked her to move over. Vag opened the book; it said "Career" again. He quickly turned the page and this one said "Dedication." "In few other countries in the world could the forces of business . . . respond with such independent choice to a new idea . . . they can . . . guide this group of young men toward the correct choice of their individually and independently chosen vocations . . ." They meant Vag, evidently. They were helping him make the choice. He started leafing through the book...
...first had a window cut into it; Vag snickered and tossed it back on the table. The next had a handwritten address. He opened it quickly. "24-Hour Cleaning," it said. "Why pay more?" Vag crumpled it into a tight ball and threw it into the fireplace. The maid looked up and frowned. Then he picked up the third and looked at the envelope. "Selective Service," it said. "Transfer Board 17." Vag sat down again, heavily. "Independently Chosen Vocations," he thought. Some guys never get the word...