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She Deserved Everything She Got |
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She Deserved Everything She Got |
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Not too long ago, I was on holiday in the Caribbean, on the island of Barbados. While I was waiting to check out, an exceptionally chatty porter greeted me at the lobby of my hotel. "Allo there, mon," he addressed me, a pronounced Jamaican accent strongly coming through his words. I returned his greeting and, since I had no one else to keep me company, I invited him to sit and talk at the lounge with me. He gladly complied, and we started chatting idly over orange juice. Very soon, he started relating his work experience to me. "You know, mon, one day, I met dis veee-ry eccentric Brit wo-mahn, an’ she sez to me, ‘Look here young lad, I demand some service! I’m a very distinguished Guest at this hotel, I’ll have you know!’ Da way she sed it, mon, you could hear da capital ‘Gee’ in her words," he began. I stifled a smile at his imitation of a British accent but nodded, prompting him to go on. "Yah, mon, so I took up all her beeg, heavy bags in one sweeft, practeesed movement, like I always do, mon," (here he swung his arm in a broad arc from right to left to demonstrate), "an’ I sez to her ‘Dis way to your room madam,’ but she jus gives me a shove on der posteh-rior an’ tells me to get a move on," he continued. "What did you do then?" I queried. "What did I do, mon? What could I do? I jus showed her to her room like a nice gentle-mahn an’ let her slam der door in my face, no tip at all, I tell you! Dat was not der end of it, mon. Der next morn, I had to meet wid her while I was making my rounds outside her room, an’ she was having trouble wid locking her blasted door. So she calls for good ole’ me, an’ of cos’, I went to see what der matter was. It turned out dat she was using der wrong side of her keycard to lock der door, so of cos’ it didun work out at all, mon. I calmly explained to her der problem an’ told her the right way to lock her door, but you know what, mon? She jus gives me an earful about how silly dis newfangled lock was, an’ how a simple key wud suffice. Gawd, I thought, she must have a screw loose somewhere in der upper room," "So you have been trying to avoid her since then?" I asked, curious as to what happened next. "No, mon! No sir-ree, no! You see, mon, I didun haf to avoid her after dat day. Dat evening, she was found dead as a doornail on der rose terrace right below her third storee room, wid stab wounds all over her!" he replied. "What? Dead? Murdered, more likely! What happened?" I inquired, leaning forward. "Oh, mon, ‘tis not good to talk about it. Till now, no one knows what really happened to her, you see. Some people say she went mad, others say she was already mad, you know, mon?" "I see. Strange things are happening around here, I hear," I remarked. The man at the checkout counter gestured to me, and I had to excuse myself from the company of the porter, but not before catching a glimpse of a sharp blade hidden in the folds of his smart red vest and hearing him curse the woman under his breath. "She deserved everything she got," he muttered. |
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