A Night at the Opera
Copyright © 2008 Lusty Library
It was the opening night of the Vienna State Opera House and absolutely everyone who believed themselves to be of the ruling class was there. Mozart’s Don Giovanni was about to start on this chilly May night in the year of our lord 1869. Of course I wasn’t of the ruling class. I was hired in for the night to attend to all the primped up peacocks and their spoiled wives and mistresses who thought that it was below them to hang their own coats. My employers for the night had been in a rush or perhaps they may have been more thorough in checking my references.
So far it had been a profitable night rifling through the pockets of the rich and stupid, just taking a little each time so as not to be noticed. I had yet to find a ‘mule’ to carry out my ill-begotten gains. I knew full well that the management would search each and every one of us who had been brought in for opening night. What I needed was for one of the privileged who was attending to act as an unwitting courier to carry my ‘takings’ right past the watchful eyes of the commissars. Casually watching the ‘well bred’ saunter through the opulent lobby, I hoped to see an aristocrat I recognised and would know where they lived so I wouldn’t need to go to the trouble of following them after the performance. It would ...
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It was the opening night of the Vienna State Opera House and absolutely everyone who believed themselves to be of the ruling class was there. Mozart’s Don Giovanni was about to start on this chilly May night in the year of our lord 1869. Of course I wasn’t of the ruling class. I was hired in for the night to attend to all the primped up peacocks and their spoiled wives and mistresses who thought that it was below them to hang their own coats. My employers for the night had been in a rush or perhaps they may have been more thorough in checking my references.
So far it had been a profitable night rifling through the pockets of the rich and stupid, just taking a little each time so as not to be noticed. I had yet to find a ‘mule’ to carry out my ill-begotten gains. I knew full well that the management would search each and every one of us who had been brought in for opening night. What I needed was for one of the privileged who was attending to act as an unwitting courier to carry my ‘takings’ right past the watchful eyes of the commissars. Casually watching the ‘well bred’ saunter through the opulent lobby, I hoped to see an aristocrat I recognised and would know where they lived so I wouldn’t need to go to the trouble of following them after the performance. It would ...
Get The Full Story At Lusty Library
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