The house was tucked away in the hills behind the Mission Golf Course, at the end of a long gated driveway. It was very peaceful and quiet, a contradiction to the twelve pairs of shoes lined up at the front door. By the voice on the phone, I knew I was dealing with an Oriental gentleman and they always remove their shoes at the door. I did likewise. A very pleasant young man greeted me and showed me to the area of the house where I would be performing my services. It was evident, almost at first glance, that I was in a situation, that in my 34 years of work, I had never been in before. I have seen and experienced many different things over the years and am rarely taken by surprise, but now I was. The decor, the accoutrements, and the garb of the young men in the house gave it away. I was in a monastery! But what really baffled me was the decor in the master bedroom, something for which I was partly responsible. In an all male environment, why was there pink flowery wallpaper, flowered garland borders, and a half dozen frilly, lacy, negligee like lamps in the bedroom, surrounding a huge four poster bed? A guest room perhaps? But who were the guests? I may never know, but being the curious person I am, I want to know.
2 comments:
Sounds creepy.
No, that's a scene from the 1955 Alfred Hitchock thriller starring Cary Grant called Dial "M" for Monastery.
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