Alexander was about to order room service at the latest luxury hotel he managed to find in his journey to find Kael and the other wood elves when he decided it was high time that he actually visited the three-star Michelin ranked restaurant in this particular hotel for a change. Room service was all well and good, but that night he was in high spirits and felt deserving of being served rather than serving himself.
As much as he put on airs to be some sort of well-educated aristocrat, Alexander's table manners were more similar to his gnoll heritage. Chewing with his mouth open, with food falling out, he was ignorant to the other guests of the restaurant nudging each other or requesting to be moved to another table away from him. The maître d'hôtel saw what was happening as guests would point to him or laugh on the side and watched like a hawk to be sure that none of his waiters were mocking Alexander.
It would be just like the inspectors who "dish out" the Michelin stars to put a honey bait of a repulsive diner to test the restaurant's staff into making a mistake that could cost them their ranking. Distracted by the sight of Alexander eating, he didn't see one of their wealthiest and most prestigious guests arrive with a companion on each arm, and six other notably famous friends. They stood silent, waiting for the maître d' to acknowledge them, before they saw what he was glowering at. Their eyes widened at the spectacle Alexander was making of his meal before their host for the evening loudly exclaimed that perhaps it was time they find a new place to eat if the restaurant had lowered its standards to allow pigs to dine.
The maître d' spun his head so quickly, they heard his neck crack, and he blushed a deep red, apologizing profusely for Alexander and offering to seat them in a private room. But the damage was done, and the nine were already out the door, with several of the women posting to social media their disgust and disappointment as his words fell in the air. This would be worse than an anonymous Michelin inspector, the maître d' thought as he tried to remember the last time he had to look for a job and whether or not his resume had been updated in the past two decades.
[This is an ongoing chapter a week story that began with the first Words for Wednesday for 2025 on 1 January. I'm hoping to continue it through 31 December, the last Wednesday of the year. To start from the beginning, click on the Words for Wednesday 2025 label to the right and it will pull up all of the weekly posts, beginning with the most recent. To start from the beginning, continue to click "Older Posts" at the bottom of the page until you get to 1 January 2025, then click "Newer Posts" to read the next date. You can thank Blogger for the inability to list them by chronological order under the labels.]
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