Tending Upwards

Letter Of Application To Richard Branson Offering My Candidacy For The Position Of His Personal Bartender

April 13, 2015

To: Sir Richard C.N. Branson
Blackheath, London
England, United Kingdom

Dear Sir Richard,

You are a busy man, so I will come straight to the point. I would like to be considered for the position of your Personal Bartender. I know that should you accept you would soon come to depend upon the myriad beverage services a servant of my virtues can provide.

In the event that you are a teetotaler or only require an infrequent Tom Collins, I am certainly willing to take on other supplementary tasks in the in-between. During downtimes, between Black Russians say, I could quite happily go about sharpening your crampons or calibrating the SCUBA regs.

In anticipation of dinner, while you enjoy a finely sabered bottle of champagne, I could busy myself shredding documents, nursing an orphaned baby dolphin or lining tequila shots along the bar.

With a wet bar in a wheeled suitcase, I would be ready at an instant’s notice to mix a Caipirinha, even as we survey the preparations for your attempt to bore to the center of the Earth. Don’t ask me how I know you are planning this.

I will readily admit my qualifications are spotty. While I did complete an intensive course in bartending, that was back in the 80s. Following that, I worked in a hotel lounge in the Rocky Mountains of Banff, Alberta, but since then, with the exception of a brief stint as “Conversationalist” in an Osakan dive bar, my career trajectory has departed from the service sector. I’m sure it would be like riding a bike.

This, for me, is not merely a way to generate bowling money; I am a fan of your humanitarian efforts as well as your contributions to the advancement of environmentally friendly technologies and policies. I too am inspired by your relentless pursuit of adventure and compulsion to press the limits of what you can do. I know in this we share a commonality.

At the age of 7, I made a world record attempt in the category of Coin Snatch. At the time, 55 five-cent pieces was the number to beat. Tragically, tiny hands were my undoing. I just could not hold 60 coins at one time, let alone snatch them from the air as they flew from my elbow. Though I lost that particular genetic lottery due to my diminutive parents, I am not bitter. I assure you that my hands will not be a hindrance to my duties. Incidentally, would I be covered by Virgin’s health plan?

You would not feel my presence unless it was required. While not busy oiling the g-force centrifuges, setting fire to Sambuca shots, or helping repair eagle nests, I would retreat demurely to other areas of service. Perhaps I could catch a marlin for dinner.

I could coordinate the refreshments during dinner parties, galas and launch events. However, on quieter nights when not loading beer bongs or refereeing jelly wrestling, you could count on me to hold up my end of the repartee. I am well read, and can offer opinion and challenge on a wide array of topics including; religion, the Spanish Civil War, the works of Jonathan Franzen, dance music, and the moral and ethical issues of our time. Do you like watching the cricket? I do.

Thank you for considering me for this position, and I look forward to being of service to you, taking part in spectacular adventures and our inevitable friendship.

Faithfully yours,

Lorne Nudel Esq.

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Lorne Written by:

Born a giant, hairless aphid to Polish and Romanian parents of the Semitic variety; tailors and teachers both stricken with mental disorders they would wait half a century to name, I spent the first ten years of my life thinking “Ech! It’s leaking again!” was my given name. In my late teens, a chance meeting with an uncle would have me wear the chador, thinking I was a stunningly beautiful Muslim girl, well into my twenties.

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