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A Skit: Mr. Pratley vs. Bottoms (The Hat Check Girl)
The Win/Win Approach (or) Who Says Blondes Can't Reason Wisely?
"Mr. Pratley! You know I've worked here a long time at the Club Magnifico/Las Vegas!"
"Yes, Bottoms, and you're the best hat check girl we've ever had at the club. What's on your mind?"
"I want journeyman painters wages for the job I do!"
"What do you mean! That's ridiculous! They spend all day painting, and you're a hat check girl. What put that idea into your pretty blonde head?"
"Well, Mr. Pratley, the way I figure it is that I do the same thing they do. After all, they spend all day taking care of coats, just like I do all night! That ought to mean I get paid the same as they do, only extra because I have to deal with people and they just stare at the walls all day!"
"Actually, Bottoms, I'm afraid that your job is just easier than theirs. After all, our customers usually stare at YOU all night, and you just see them coming and going!"
"That's true, Mr. Pratley, but that's part of what I'm talking about! Frankly, you've got to admit it. You either owe me wages at the journeyman painters wage, or you're going to have to pay me at the rate you pay your psychiatrist!"
"Bottoms, this conversation is going from bad to worse. You've got to be putting me on! What does my seeing a psychiatrist have to do with your work as a hat check girl?"
"Look, Mr. Pratley, this is a club, right?"
"And people have been known to win bets here, right?"
"Well, then, let's have a bet between us right here and now! Okay?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"If I win, you owe me your choice of the journeyman painters' wage, or what you pay your psychiatrist. If you win, I'll work the next year without a raise. Is it a deal?"
"What are we betting on?"
"We're betting that I can prove to this audience here that I do the same work for you that your psychiatrist does! Are you just a big chicken, or are you willing to bet I'm wrong?"
"I know you're wrong. You've got yourself a bet, and I've got another year of no inflation in at least one of the wages I pay! Go ahead. See if you can even come close to proving your bet!"
"Okay gang! This is for my raise! If, after I explain it to you, you agree with my answer, then I want to hear it in your applause. Okay?"
"Mr. Pratley visits that psychiatrist of his every week. He pays that mind massager 150 bucks an hour to deal with his mental mish-mash. Every night, when Mr. Pratley comes into the club, Mr. Pratley gives me his coat and talks with me for an hour during the evening. The way I've got it figured, his psychiatrist sees him once a week, for an hour, and gets 150 bucks. I see Pratley here at the club for an hour every night, and he owes me a whopping raise because his psychiatrist with his doctor's mind, and I with his coat, both have to handle Pratley's hang-ups! What do you say, gang?"
"Now, Bottoms! That just isn't fair! They're different kinds of hang-ups!"
"Mr. Pratley! Do you really think that this audience is so obtuse that they don't realize that your psychiatrist and I really have to deal with your exact same hang-ups!? It's either that, or admit that the coats you are talking about are really closer to the painters' coats than to the hang-ups I have in mind. The choice is yours, but you either owe me journeyman painters' wage, or 150 bucks a night!"
"Thanks, gang! As for you Mr. Pratley, you can give me your answer when you come to take your hang-ups home to Mrs. Pratley! Know what I mean now?"
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