Drunken Sailor

[Reeves]

A shake of his head suggested that this wasn't the case, but it was more of an elaborate answer than expected. "No, but it's not for the reasons you've been spoonfed." It was a play on words given what she'd chosen to say, he had no problems jabbing back verbally if he needed to. "Time is money in high society, every minute you're spending trying to figure out if somebody's useful or not is a minute wasted. And if it takes too long to work out how somebody can be useful to you, then they aren't actually worth the time. There was always a preference for people who could simply demonstrate their abilities, because then the question was answered instantly." It was a purely practical way of people with ones associates and peers. It had nothing to do with pride or manners, those things didn't escalate profit margins. Having the skill to do your job and do it well was what people actually valued, politeness was just a nice ribbon for an already pretty little box. It also revealed that people from the walk of life he was from didn't view people as people, they were things, assets, to be used as is necessary.

"I hated my life there." It was obvious he meant that, she might have thought differently since he had every luxury at his disposal. But there was no point to any of that if your life was still ultimately being spent in a cage. Other people might have been content to accept that reality, since their confinement came with ample amenities, the fact they had swallowed the key was immaterial. He couldn't bring himself to accept that, not when the real lie being sold to him back then was that he had a life.