Later that morning, Prissy was instructed to prepare and serve brunch. The girls casually sat about the table reading the Sunday paper as Prissy slaved away, setting the places, cooking the food, and then serving his “employers”. The girls frequently took opportunities to have Prissy wait hand and foot on them, despite the fact that he was already quite busy with his appointed tasks. “Prissy, would you be a dear and hand me the sports section of the paper”, asked Katie with a wide grin on her pretty face. Of course, Prissy answered “Yes Miss Katie”, and minced in from the kitchen. He paused at the doorway and curtsied as required, swished over to where Katie was seated, and lifted the paper from the table only a foot away from her, placing it carefully in her hand. Prissy curtsied again, and demurely inquired, “Will that be all, Miss?” Upon receiving her acknowledgment, and the brief conversation being at an end, he dutifully curtsied, walked back to the doorway with the small steps forced upon him by the high heeled pumps, turned and performed yet another curtsey before leaving the room to continue with the brunch preparations. A few seconds later, Catherine wanted the television section, or some other small request was made, and the entire ritual was repeated again for the amusement of the girls. Even though it had been several hours since they had first dressed Prissy as their maid, the girls couldn’t help but giggle and laugh as they watched him prance about.
Seemingly hundreds of curtsies later, brunch was eventually completed, and Prissy was put to work straightening out the living room, first vacuuming the floor, and then cleaning the tables and lamps with a feather duster. He was becoming increasingly confident of his ability to weather this ordeal when the doorbell rang.
“Prissy hon, will you get that please?” asked Janet, who was in fact seated only a few feet from the door at the time. “And don’t forget to greet whomever it is with a curtsey!” A flash of fear crossed Prissy’s face as he considered the implications of appearing in these clothes before others. But he was clearly without a vote in the matter, and performed his curtsey ceremonies in reply to Miss Janet’s request before crossing to the door and opening it. A beaming Susie greeted Prissy as he swung the door open.
“Hello Prissy! My isn’t that the cutest little outfit though?” Susie said in greeting, as she walked inside and looked Prissy over from head to toe. “Prissy, maids curtsey when they greet guests at the door, or have you already forgotten?” Janet called out. Submitting to what was rapidly becoming “Curtsey Madness”, Prissy gathered his senses and quickly grasped his skirts and bent his knees to Susie, all the while trying to figure out what was going on. Susie charged past him to join the others in the living room.
“I thought you told me Prissy was your cousin Janet. I didn’t know she was also your maid”, Susie goaded. Janet and the others remained silent, and Prissy finally figured that it was left up to him to explain his subservient status. “Oh this. Janet and I like to make bets a lot. I lost the last one and I’m her maid today as a result”, Prissy said, trying to act casually about the whole matter. “Well whatever the reason, Prissy, don’t start thinking you’re just `one of the girls’ while wearing your precious little outfit. Don’t forget your place!” Janet responded. She continued, “And don’t forget to ask my guest is she’d like some refreshments.”
