I am probably the only person in the world named Jeeves.
I have enough confidence to say “I drew you a bath.”
I have an unwavering sense of loyalty to my employer, the Devonshire family, even though they don’t offer dental insurance.
I have a personal brand and it’s Colin Firth.
I am emotionally repressed because the International Butlers Association states that “a butler shall not express his emotions under any circumstances unless the heir to the Devonshire family, Chad, corrodes his family’s fortune by pursuing his very expensive web series.”
My creative outlet is composing letters to my imaginary wife since, as a butler, I have implicitly sworn a life of celibacy even though I didn’t know that was in the job description.
I know how to speak four languages: English, Downton Abbey English, Colin Firth’s immaculate portrayal of Mr. Darcy in the 1995 BBC production of Pride and Prejudice English, and a little bit of high school Spanish.
I always give the Devonshire family the white glove treatment and Chad’s stoner friends who use our wine cellar for storing their macrame the white glove slapping.
I was the casting director’s first choice to be the butler Mr. Carson in Downton Abbey, but I declined the offer even though I’d be absolutely fantastic in that role and would definitely make Colin Firth proud.
My love language is getting accidentally mistaken for Colin Firth.
I always maintain my composure even when Chad yells at me in that high-pitched voice of his whenever I critique his web series “Shredded Cheese Consultants in Aston Martins Getting Coffee.”
I am obligated by my employer to draw baths for a 43-year-old shredded cheese consultant named Chad.
I was the casting director’s first choice to be Alfred in Ben Affleck’s’ Batman vs. Superman, but I declined the offer because I knew that the movie was going to be terrible.
I know when to properly use “whom.”