Know Your Place

Know Your Place

Andrew Tate phoned up his local escort

Agency, who, due to a word misheard,

Sent round a girl, not his usual sort,

Of a demeanour completely absurd.

She, entirely at odds with his wishes,

Entered his house, went straight to the kitchen,

Opened cupboards, and talked to the dishes!

Andrew hollered; “Who let this mad bitch in!?”

At which his house security appeared:

“This is the escort they’ve sent you”, said one;

“I have to admit, she is pretty weird;

Would you like me to go and get my gun?”

But Andrew was back on the phone, now raging;

“Who the fuck is this you’ve sent me?” he cried;

“I can’t take her to the fight I’m staging”.

“I’m sorry sir”, the manager replied,

“Can you repeat your request regarding

The type of escort lady you required?”

This Andrew did, on top of demanding,

The agency receptionist be fired;

"Of course sir, and we’ll also send a new

Escort to you straight away, free of charge;

After all sir, it’s the least we can do;

We'll even throw in a naked massage”.

With this assurance the call there ended;

The manager summoned and dismissed his

Employee, who, being most offended,

Took him to a tribunal, and this

Reportage, I must now draw to a close,

Lest I influence the outcome one way

Or the other, as far as judgement goes;

The jury being given final say,

Regarding the strange case of Mr Tate’s

Request for a woman who, “Knows her plates”.