You paid for the oceanfront luxury, the room service, the view—and yet, you’re not invited to the table. my man and i indulge in a decadent meal, enjoying every bite while you sit, silent and denied. you don’t get a seat… but i do let you have the scraps. after i’ve stepped all over them with my filthy feet. that’s your place: funding our pleasure and groveling for leftovers. watch closely. this is what it means to truly serve.