A little excerpt from das story, by das author (me)
sorry for wall of text lul
Shortly, he made it to the shop he was sent there for. Gawaet. Gawaet was the rich mans, rich mans spot to shop, when searching for the niche, the unique, done perfectly and almost always out of solid gold. Every facet and raised texture by supreme will and experience planned just so. Gawaet offered the maximum, of the maximum, of quality. And they were mighty humble about it. The tallest doors in the mall were here, double smoky glass doors two shoulders wide and dear to the ceiling, with no view to the inside apparent. As he approached, a stern woman stepped out from the automatic doors, carrying a solid gold and very ornate golf tee between each finger like wolverine, with no packaging whatsoever. If he wasn't supposed to be a butler, he would have stared with a slack jaw catching flies. But, he restrained himself. Of this he was very proud. And luckily, the pilot had reminded him to keep his cool; the whole mall will be filled with the insane, not just some golf tees. He had to brace himself to avoid looking fresh.
He stepped forward into the sensor's range, and stopped as he waited for it to receive him. A few seconds passed and still the doors were sealed. Of course it didn't open. He thought for a second what he looked like; stupid, probably. He had rushed it, and it wasn't ready to open again. Or, everyone else knew you could only enter Gawaet one at a time, with five minutes between. Maybe it had broke just for him, a little sign that he was in too deep, and should never have taken the job. But that's not what the little sign said.
There on the ground, in gold as per rich man's rules, was a little sign embedded in the marble that said "Five minutes between orders, please wait behind line. Welcome to Gawaet." The doors had stolen his focus, and kept his eyes up. But there on the ground, just beneath his toes, was the line, a black shining line. He surreptitiously inched back behind it. He had looked correct after all.
Nothing to do but wait, he mindfully tuned his posture and tried to ignore a photographer who was snapping shots from the side. The photographer orbited him, kneeling here and there, before moving on. There were photographers around every corner here, never saying a word, just snapping, snapping.
The doors eventually opened, small trails of mist wisping out with them, and a pleasant blue glow emanating from unseen sources. He waited until they were fully swung wide, and stepped deftly inside with his right foot first. He suddenly felt he fit in with this role, with this store. His suit, a little eccentric in design but flattering still sat well with the atmosphere. He imagined he looked pretty slick, yes sir no sir very very good sir. A first class butler. He let the pride bloom a little and swelled his chest, it was good for appearances. As the doors came to a soft dinn behind him, he stopped to let his eyes adapt to the darker interior. He stood just inside the doors as he waited, better than stumbling around blind. Once adjusted he again began walking. On either side in the small space, only slightly wider than the doorway, were white cubic shelves. Once looked into you could see aquariums, with beautiful and undoubtedly endangered fish in a hushed parade within the large tanks. How pretty, he thought. Too bad stopping and looking could be seen as sloppy. He continued through the hallway, sparing glances to either side.
The desk was nearly empty, no cash register, no scanners or card readers. Just two nameplates, one for each of the ladies that stood apart and awaited him. Their beauty nearly caused him to lose stride, suddenly visible once he entered into the larger, brighter space that made the store itself. He approached them steady as he could, and chose the woman on his right.
"I am here for Mr. Amett."
He was going to explain what for, when the woman spoke first. "Yes sir, please place your thumb here", gesturing to an electronic pad that had passed his notice on the smooth grey stone counter between them.
He obliged. There was a warm tone after a second, and she quickly checked a hidden monitor beneath the counter with a flick of her eyes. She gestured to the other woman, who nodded and retreated through a bright doorway behind the desk, and went around a turn and out of sight. They, he and the woman he had spoken to, stood silent for a moment. Then she smiled at him, and spoke again.
"Mr. Amett does not shop with us often enough. Please give him our regards from us at Gawaet when you see him next" she said perfectly. She must have said it to hundreds of servants over the years.
He opened his mouth to reply and hesitated for a second, before saying "yes, I will."
Her smile turned a little wry, and eyes slightly mischevious. "Have you met Mr. Amett yet?"
He hesitated again. Should he be cold? ..nah, he didn't want to be one of those snobby butlers. He leaned his forearms on the stone and confessed "no, not yet. I was going to meet him this morning, once I have his package here" he said hopefully.
"No packages here", she replied, looking a little sympathetic.
There was moment of quiet, which she broke again. "Mr. Amett is hard on new hires. You're the fourth to come through this month, since his old one died. Each time they get less and less experienced, 'cuz everyone with experience knows to stay away from him." She watched him, and seemed to read him just fine without a response. "I can tell. It's not obvious, but I've seen probably a couple thousand butlers and butlerettes come through here, and some of these guys are downright statues. You've got the new guy look in your eyes."
He just laughed, looking down a little. She continued.
"Welcome to the richest man's world. Don't become a statue if you can help it." She was looking into his eyes, and he noticed that there was a warmth in hers. "And beware of Mr. Amett and his fuckery" she said, suddenly laughing too loud for a posh shop, a laughter he found rich even in the Crystal Mall.
He hoped with her that he wouldn't become a statue. He even indulged in sharing a nervous chuckle, though he didn't get the joke. As they settled down, the other girl came back from the room behind the desk with four gold lumps in her hands. She placed them next to the girl in front of him, who he saw on the nameplate was named Monet. She straightened up, gave him a couple tips on holding the items like a butler, and wished him well.
"Hold in there mister, and we hope to see you again, very soon." Monet was smiling and waving in sync with her partner, who had yet to say a word.
He smiled, and turned to leave, thanking them. The doors cracked open ahead of him, timed perfectly to his pace, and he stepped outside as they opened. Right foot first. He noticed two servants had lined up after him, waiting patiently behind the line. They certainly looked like statues, these ones. He moved past them back the way he came, through the mock heaven corridors to the helicopter still waiting outside. No sign of the sun just yet.
tldr; very pretty mall, gold, french people, helicopters, flipping photographers man they're annoying
