One of his first jobs was a two-year stint as the chief steward aboard the yacht of a sheik—basically, a butler at sea. The sheik wasn’t on his boat all that often, but when he did set sail, he liked to take the vessel “whoring,” as Bentley puts it. “The girls would all line up on the dock. The sheik would say, ‘You go. You go. You come aboard.'” On one four-day trip from Spain to Morocco, one of the sheik’s wives surprised the crew in port. “She came on board with her daughters, looking in every bed, trying to find a pubic hair.” Luckily, Bentley had been given a heads-up. He had his maids strip the sheets. Meanwhile Bentley hid six prostitutes in his own cabin, knowing that a sheik’s wife would never go into the staff’s lower-deck quarters. Then he stayed up all night in the laundry room, scrubbing evidence. Finally, exhausted, he went to his cabin for his first real sleep after the sheik’s four-day bender.
The moment he closed his eyes, a subordinate knocked on his door: The sheik needed him on deck immediately. “Can’t you take care of it?” Bentley pleaded. No, the boss demanded Bentley. So he pulled himself out of bed, threw on his uniform, and raced up to see his employer. The urgent matter? The sheik needed him to turn off a light. “That one, there,” he said, pointing to a switch three feet away. “That’s when you have to be thick-skinned,” says Bentley, who flipped the switch without a sigh.
More here – GQ
