Marie Antoinette pulled back the red velvet drape and gazed out the window of her Carden Street office. She wondered aloud what all the complaints were about.
“Do these people not realize that progress has a price?” she asked rhetorically.
She glided over to the coloured rendering of her beloved Market Square that would be a living remembrance of her stewardship of Guelph. She thought to herself how her plan had fallen into place. With an ice surface for citizens in the winter and a water feature in the summer, why were they complaining? The addition of trees along Carden Street and those darling special bricks ordered from outside the country, would be part of her crowing (sic) glory.
“But majesty,” a courtier said interrupting her reverie, “the people are angry that the Carden Market Square project has destroyed businesses and taken far too long to complete. They also say they had nothing to say when the plan was developed.”
Madame Antoinette reared up and stared coldly at the courtier. “How dare they question my Market Square plan. It will make my city the envy of the country.”
“Majesty, they are asking for compensation in lieu of the long term inconvenience the project has caused,” the courtier stated with a hint of terror in his eyes.
“Compensation! Compensation! Do they think we are made of money?” the Mayor snarled examining her freshly lacquered nails done in the exclusive shade of flaming scarlet with gold appliqué.
“Majesty, there are many complaints and calls about this project and other unfinished ones around your city,” the courtier said. “What should we do? Your royal legal secretary has advised that they are calling your managers who are responsible the Three Stooges.” We must defend our staff.”
“Why must you bother me with such matters. What matters most is my afternoon tea with lemon tarts,” her majesty replied.
As she headed to the underground parking lot to drive to her summer palace, she said: “Let them eat dust. I’m outta here.”