The more I must lickshine my regular customers' footwear, the more fond I grow of them. For these people are all my betters.
Here you see me fondly lickshining the sneakers of regular customer Ms Bhavisana, who has grown to despise me every bit as much as I have grown fond of her. And rightly so, for, as I said, she is better than me.
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| 'You shine sneaker. Lick off dirt. You clean, slave!... |
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| '...You clean shoe well, or I WHIP!' |
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| 'Yes, Ms Bhavisana madam. At once, Ms Bhavisana madam.' |
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| I set my tongue to work straight away, for I know Ms Bhavisana means what she says. Many of the stripes on my shoulders were painted by her on previous visits to my shoelick chair! |
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| Better to diligently LICK SHOE, than FEEL WHIP! |
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| Plus, of course, I must humbly and reverentially study her SOCK! |
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| For it is a SOCK of GREATNESS... |
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| ...the SOCK of my SUPERIOR |
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| I am not fit to look at, or even think about, Ms Bhavisana above her SOCK! |
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| She knows it, I know it, and even passers-by know it! |
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| No wonder Ms Bhavisana despises me. I despise myself. I'm just a whipped shoelicker and sycophantic sock-admirer! |
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