Issue 6

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Chou laughed, "You thinking about men in uniform instead of cleaning?"

"Well he was good looking, I suppose." I blushed a little, thinking back. Like a guy with shoes like Whisper would ever notice the help. I wasn't even a person to most of our clients. I put on my uniform and became background noise.

"Oh- if you get a date with a Pantheon man who has three bars; that means he good husband," Chou was preoccupied with finding everyone good husbands. Hers had run out on her, leaving her with two kids and a broken heart.

"What does it mean, though?"

"Hm, not sure, is it important?"

"I don't know," I shrugged and ran a wiper over the window-sills.

"Ne, ask Bang. She might know," Chou put her duster down, poking her head out the door, and yelled, as she did, "Heeey, Bang. What does three bars mean- for Pantheon man?"

Bang poked her head out from the bathroom, she was wearing gloves for scrubbing the toilet, "Three bars of what?"

We shared a smile at that reply.

"On the badge- Bang. Three bars on the badge."

"I had a boyfriend with two bars on his badge. He worked on the space-station. You know the big one- that fights aliens. Three bars must be... like Daystar?"

I doubted it was the leader of the Pantheon, somehow.

"Now that is a man I want to have a good marriage with," Chou agreed.

I laughed, "He's an alien!"

"I know, but he has such a wonderful smile," She laughed.

"So by that logic any man with a good smile is a good husband for you?"

Chou considered this and then nodded. Bang snorted and went back into the bathroom while I laughed.

"Laugh all you want, young girl. But when you reach my age, you want to have a man in your life you can talk to. A good man with good values."

"What if I liked women more?"

"Well a good partner then. But you will never meet anyone if you don't make time to meet them. Boys like a girl who wears pretty clothing and makeup."

I rolled my eyes and went back to dusting, "Well I wasn't interested in this guy anyway."

"Mr Three Bars? Why not? You said he was good looking."

"He was an eccentric," I knew that Mandarin word very well.

She clucked and shook her head, "Pity."

We had a code for all of our guests. I found applied to most residence of Capita city. Habits, eccentrics, and excess. A man of habit was the sort with routine, who did things always the same way every time. They didn't want any changes in their schedule, no variables. Eccentrics were the sort who were unpredictable, but also made weird requests (like three kilos of raw mince at two-AM). Excess was simply the individual who wanted everything, the ones who expected everything for free and was often leaving condoms and drugs on the table. The hotel had a don't ask, don't tell policy when it came to clients breaking the law. Our clientele were very elite and wanted discretion.

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