03.00 AM

I know I should always be pleased to see and to serve local customer-mistress Ms Mukta Madam, but at 03:00 A.M? When I’m trying to get some much needed sleep? And when it’s freezing cold and there is snow on the ground?

Of course, insomniac customer-mistress Ms Mukta Madam doesn’t give a damn whether or not I’m trying to get some shut-eye. She wants her snow-stained, red wellington boots lickshined, and so lickshined they shall be – even at 03:00 A.M. 

Perhaps she is lonely and fancies a chat? As you may know, I am permitted to speak to my customers, though only about their shoes and/or socks, and so I, somewhat nervously in view of her having a pointing stick in her hand, politely enquire as to her socks inside her boots:

‘Oh pray, customer-mistress Ms Mukta Madam, God bless you, Customer-mistress Ms Mukta Madam, and pray forgive this intrusion, most esteemed customer-mistress Ms Mukta Madam, but this slave was politely wondering whether the mistress’s feet are protected by a pair of nice, thick and cosy, warming socks inside her beautiful, rubber boots on such a cold and frosty night as this, if you would be so kind and understanding to an humble slave at your mercy, thanking you kindly customer-mistress Ms Mukta Madam?’

Her response is to tell me to ‘shut the f**k up’, and to get on with lickshining her boots!

Needless to say, I hastily do so, having first humbly and fearfully apologised for my impudence. Ms Mukta Madam can be a gentle and kind soul at times. But she can equally be quick-tempered and harsh when the mood takes her, and this morning she is evidently in one such foul mood!

Our night-time interaction therefore continues in silence, the only sound being that of my tongue lapping the snowy dirt off her bitter-tasting, red rubber boots. When she eventually turns to leave me and heads off into the city, I have no idea whether she’s heading back to her nearby apartment for some sleep, or on her way to find another somnolent, lazy public footslave to cajole and harass. But, internally, I wish her well, as I am obliged to do by Law, since she is my superior and better. And I breathe a sigh of frosty relief that her whippy pointing stick did not see fit to lash me across the face. I would have deserved it, and I am eternally grateful to Ms Mukta Madam for not beating me tonight.