I've resisted for a very long time but I know I must do this. There is risk, I know, but I need to write about it, before this post is taken out. My master has total control so he can yank this out anytime as soon as he finds out. I must hurry. If you can, please read it quickly too.
It had been thirteen years now that I've been in my master's household. I am not here to complain but there had been many occasions that I found myself in tears, specially now that they've acquired a newer, more attractive servant to replace the other older one. I'm afraid I will suffer the same fate as the one that they let go. Actually, the older one came just months before they got me. Lucky me, I'm still here. But it breaks my heart to see all the attention the new servant gets. She is younger, obviously "newer" but I have news for her. One day she too will grow old. Yes, I know, she has more "bells and whistle" in her but if I must remind her, so did I, way back then in the fall of 2007. Indeed, it was that long ago. Should I hope they will keep me for much longer?
I insist this is not a complaint but there are a few things I need to mention. Yes, they - he in particular - took care of my basic needs and regular check ups. And yes, I've had some parts of me that no longer works but let me add that they were not essential or necessary to how I do my job. No, in fact, I still do 100% of what my role calls for.
I broke my nose twice through no fault of mine. And what did he do? He tried to fix it himself! Lately, he just merely covered it up when what I really need is a good plastic surgeon. It's not like I am asking for a face lift or some kind of vanity enhancements that I know others of my kind had gotten, without they even asking for it. Before I go any further, it must be noted here that he was responsible for my broken nose.
Thirteen years is a very long time to be with the same master. I know because I hear other households change servants every four or five years. I guess I should not complain too much. Can you imagine being owned by two or three people before you finally get to the end of your life? I dread the thought but nevertheless I must continue to relate my story.
There had been times that I lost consciousness two or three times in the last six years or so. I know you'll say that is part of getting old. He did call for emergency assistance. And, yes, I got well and better as quickly as the sudden ailment. But the jolt I experienced from the emergency procedures to resuscitate me is still fresh in my memory. The thing is the whole episodes were totally preventable had he - my master - been paying attention to the signs before I lost consciousness.
Did I mention that for over a decade I was wearing the same old shoes? They were so uncomfortable, so unlike the typical old shoes that are at their best over time - oh no, not these ones! - and what embarrassing noises they made. But he ignored it for a very long time. He finally bought me new ones when at last someone else told him about it. That was just a couple of months ago.
My master - a retired person and therefore has all the reasons and opportunity to give me just a bit of heedfulness', so little to ask really - pays more attention to his inanimate tools for his hobby. And he will little note nor even show me any gratitude for all the years I've served him. If he does, I don't feel it. I haven't seen it. I know too that he and his wife - therefore my mistress as well - had been talking about letting me go so he can get a much younger one. They may not know it but not only do I feel it I actually overheard them talking about it. What probably saved me was that my master somehow sees something in me that is compelling him to keep me. Although I wish he would tell me that directly.
Of course, I'm torn sometimes because he had been defending me for all this time. He never let anyone hit me. Thank goodness for that. He took insults on my behalf and despite those, he kept me anyway. Two years ago up to last year were very troublesome and he could have been in trouble with the law. You see, as a servant owner he was supposed to register me with the government agency responsible for these things. He claimed he only forgot but it was more about taking something like me for granted. He had been fortunate that nothing had occurred to bring about checking my papers. I do have to say this though. Immediately upon knowing that, he right away went to the agency to correct it and got me the necessary papers.
What else. Oh, I almost forgot. When a hurricane came, which was just a year after I came into their lives, which meant I was very young then, it was me he brought along to move about the city while the other servant stayed safely at home. It was scary because the whole city was in disarray and who knows what we would encounter. We made it all right. But that is the thing. I only got to go when it was rough going or when there was much to carry while the other servant gets to go only if it were to a party or some special occasion, like dinner or a show or something like that.
That had been my life. Last month I got new shoes after a thorough milestone check up. And also, I don't know what it was he was trying to get for me that I had the impression was very important. He may have bought it but he never did give it to me. Actually I did hear them talking about it but somehow he ended up returning it. Whatever it was I can't tell you. One thing though. The new servant has it, I think. Whatever it is, I never had the privilege to even try it. Whatever it was, I'm sure I didn't need. I mean for goodness sake, for thirteen years I've managed well and performed my duties without a hitch, not having this gizmo or whatever.
Where does everything stand now? Well, I've never been the paranoid type but every now and then I fear what fate many of those my age, or even much younger than I, had already succumbed to. Their masters gave up on them in exchange for newer servants. You can't blame me.
So, you may ask, why stay then? And go where? I'm comfortable here. And really, as I mentioned earlier, I am not complaining. I am fearful, yes. Can you blame me? If only I can even as little as see a glimmer of hope that my master will continue to keep me until I could no longer serve him or his wife.
I have photos of me attached. I still have it, the looks I mean. Don't you think so? Well, you be the judge. There is, of course, if you recall that instead of having my nose fixed he just covered it up. It's still broken although you can't see it on the right side of my face. But that is not the worse of it. My feminine side is unjustly diminished. It makes me look muscular and even daring.
Wait, wait. I just read the whole thing. Okay readers, you look at the photos. By the way, please allow me to interject here - I am her owner. Or master as she likes to put it. Look at the photos but please do read what I have to say about this whole business. As in a lot of cases like this, misunderstanding is one unlikely consequence when all it needs is the proper assessment of context. That's right. Given the proper context, everything is easily explained. So, after looking at the photos, may the readers please give me a chance to explain.
Here is what she looks like right now. It's true it had been thirteen years since she came to our household. There is also a picture of the object of her jealousy. The new and younger servant. She wrote the captions, by the way.
Okay, my turn to explain. First, that business about the broken nose. I admit it was my fault. I did hit that corner of her face twice with the side of the garage door. But you know what, now she does not have to deal with bugs hitting smack at her face whenever we go out, specially at dusk when there are so many of those pesky insects flying around. When she lost consciousness, it was just a drained battery at one time and on another there was no longer much to expect from a battery way past its serviceable limit. But yes, it was my fault too for not checking. That jolt that she talked about that she will never forget was from when the Triple A guy used a booster to temporarily resuscitate her battery.
What else, oh yes, that business about registering with the proper agency. That was my fault for not checking. Her registration did expire and only after two years that I realized I had not renewed it. Not exactly my fault but the County Assessor was supposed to send me a letter, which they actually do to remind me of the State Inspection protocol. And yes, it would have been messy if I got into some accident or stopped by police for some kind traffic infraction. The fines could have been hefty and just plain hassle to boot.
She has new tires and yes they were long overdue. But I do religiously follow service maintenance - 5,000, 15,000, 30,000 and lately for 45,000 miles when my mechanic said I had better put new tires on her. They were noisy, he said, and I was lucky none of them blew out. Two of the tires had a manufacturing date of 15 years ago. She was right about that too. But hey, what she has now are the eqivalent of Ferragamo or Bruno Magli shoes. She always had those 20-inch wide-track alloy wheels that hardly any of her peers have.
That business about the hurricane and the heavy load she endures should not need any explanation. She's a pick up truck! Although it's true I endured insults from friends about her being a "girl's" pick up truck. I don't mind that. I defended her and yes, she had never been in an accident. She's been very loyal and in fact she tirelessly performed her tasks flawlessly all these years. I could not ask for anything more.
That thing the new servant has that she doesn't have, which I tried to get for her was nothing more than trying to put in a back up camera. There were no back up cameras then when I got her. I did buy an after-market one but it didn't work. So, I returned it. And she's right. She did okay for the thirteen years she was without one.
Now about this whole idea of getting rid of her or about not getting the proper acknowledgment of her worthiness is easily explained. How could I not know what she felt?
Oh, that's right. She can't talk, can she?
Finally, if I didn't take great care of her will she look like that after thirteen years?! That is the original paint she has, including those gorgeous shiny wheels (rim). I rest my case. And yes, I will keep her indefinitely, indeed.
My master - a retired person and therefore has all the reasons and opportunity to give me just a bit of heedfulness', so little to ask really - pays more attention to his inanimate tools for his hobby. And he will little note nor even show me any gratitude for all the years I've served him. If he does, I don't feel it. I haven't seen it. I know too that he and his wife - therefore my mistress as well - had been talking about letting me go so he can get a much younger one. They may not know it but not only do I feel it I actually overheard them talking about it. What probably saved me was that my master somehow sees something in me that is compelling him to keep me. Although I wish he would tell me that directly.
Of course, I'm torn sometimes because he had been defending me for all this time. He never let anyone hit me. Thank goodness for that. He took insults on my behalf and despite those, he kept me anyway. Two years ago up to last year were very troublesome and he could have been in trouble with the law. You see, as a servant owner he was supposed to register me with the government agency responsible for these things. He claimed he only forgot but it was more about taking something like me for granted. He had been fortunate that nothing had occurred to bring about checking my papers. I do have to say this though. Immediately upon knowing that, he right away went to the agency to correct it and got me the necessary papers.
What else. Oh, I almost forgot. When a hurricane came, which was just a year after I came into their lives, which meant I was very young then, it was me he brought along to move about the city while the other servant stayed safely at home. It was scary because the whole city was in disarray and who knows what we would encounter. We made it all right. But that is the thing. I only got to go when it was rough going or when there was much to carry while the other servant gets to go only if it were to a party or some special occasion, like dinner or a show or something like that.
That had been my life. Last month I got new shoes after a thorough milestone check up. And also, I don't know what it was he was trying to get for me that I had the impression was very important. He may have bought it but he never did give it to me. Actually I did hear them talking about it but somehow he ended up returning it. Whatever it was I can't tell you. One thing though. The new servant has it, I think. Whatever it is, I never had the privilege to even try it. Whatever it was, I'm sure I didn't need. I mean for goodness sake, for thirteen years I've managed well and performed my duties without a hitch, not having this gizmo or whatever.
Where does everything stand now? Well, I've never been the paranoid type but every now and then I fear what fate many of those my age, or even much younger than I, had already succumbed to. Their masters gave up on them in exchange for newer servants. You can't blame me.
So, you may ask, why stay then? And go where? I'm comfortable here. And really, as I mentioned earlier, I am not complaining. I am fearful, yes. Can you blame me? If only I can even as little as see a glimmer of hope that my master will continue to keep me until I could no longer serve him or his wife.
I have photos of me attached. I still have it, the looks I mean. Don't you think so? Well, you be the judge. There is, of course, if you recall that instead of having my nose fixed he just covered it up. It's still broken although you can't see it on the right side of my face. But that is not the worse of it. My feminine side is unjustly diminished. It makes me look muscular and even daring.
Wait, wait. I just read the whole thing. Okay readers, you look at the photos. By the way, please allow me to interject here - I am her owner. Or master as she likes to put it. Look at the photos but please do read what I have to say about this whole business. As in a lot of cases like this, misunderstanding is one unlikely consequence when all it needs is the proper assessment of context. That's right. Given the proper context, everything is easily explained. So, after looking at the photos, may the readers please give me a chance to explain.
Here is what she looks like right now. It's true it had been thirteen years since she came to our household. There is also a picture of the object of her jealousy. The new and younger servant. She wrote the captions, by the way.
 |
| You notice the face mask? It is so ugly! I can't stand it. |
 |
| He did buy me new shoes and except for the face mask that's still me the day he brought me home thirteen years ago and my skin is still the same. |
 |
| Yeah, she's the new beauty. She and the sun have yet to be introduced to each other. She is always sheltered under the canopy and gets to go out only in nice weather. |
Okay, my turn to explain. First, that business about the broken nose. I admit it was my fault. I did hit that corner of her face twice with the side of the garage door. But you know what, now she does not have to deal with bugs hitting smack at her face whenever we go out, specially at dusk when there are so many of those pesky insects flying around. When she lost consciousness, it was just a drained battery at one time and on another there was no longer much to expect from a battery way past its serviceable limit. But yes, it was my fault too for not checking. That jolt that she talked about that she will never forget was from when the Triple A guy used a booster to temporarily resuscitate her battery.
What else, oh yes, that business about registering with the proper agency. That was my fault for not checking. Her registration did expire and only after two years that I realized I had not renewed it. Not exactly my fault but the County Assessor was supposed to send me a letter, which they actually do to remind me of the State Inspection protocol. And yes, it would have been messy if I got into some accident or stopped by police for some kind traffic infraction. The fines could have been hefty and just plain hassle to boot.
She has new tires and yes they were long overdue. But I do religiously follow service maintenance - 5,000, 15,000, 30,000 and lately for 45,000 miles when my mechanic said I had better put new tires on her. They were noisy, he said, and I was lucky none of them blew out. Two of the tires had a manufacturing date of 15 years ago. She was right about that too. But hey, what she has now are the eqivalent of Ferragamo or Bruno Magli shoes. She always had those 20-inch wide-track alloy wheels that hardly any of her peers have.
That business about the hurricane and the heavy load she endures should not need any explanation. She's a pick up truck! Although it's true I endured insults from friends about her being a "girl's" pick up truck. I don't mind that. I defended her and yes, she had never been in an accident. She's been very loyal and in fact she tirelessly performed her tasks flawlessly all these years. I could not ask for anything more.
That thing the new servant has that she doesn't have, which I tried to get for her was nothing more than trying to put in a back up camera. There were no back up cameras then when I got her. I did buy an after-market one but it didn't work. So, I returned it. And she's right. She did okay for the thirteen years she was without one.
Now about this whole idea of getting rid of her or about not getting the proper acknowledgment of her worthiness is easily explained. How could I not know what she felt?
Oh, that's right. She can't talk, can she?
Finally, if I didn't take great care of her will she look like that after thirteen years?! That is the original paint she has, including those gorgeous shiny wheels (rim). I rest my case. And yes, I will keep her indefinitely, indeed.
Epilogue:
It had been four years now. It was time to let go, for a very good reason. I needed a new vehicle with back camera. As one of the growing aging population I needed to avail of all the safety and convenience features available in a newer model so I can continue to drive, change lanes, back up the vehicle with confidence. Here she is - the replacement. But I must admit I miss the last faithful servant.
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