 How does Miss Meuhl feel about her job?
You don't have to be crazy to be an earth diplomat—but on Groac it sure helps! I "The Consul for the Terrestrial States," Retief said, "presents his compliments, et cetera, to the Ministry of Culture of the Groacian Autonomy, and with reference to the Ministry's invitation to attend a recital of interpretive grimacing, has the honor to express regret that he will be unable—" "You can't turn this invitation down," Administrative Assistant Meuhl said flatly. "Miss Meuhl," he said, "in the past couple of weeks I've sat through six light-concerts, four attempts at chamber music, and god knows how many assorted folk-art festivals. I've been tied up every off-duty hour since I got here—" "You can't offend the Groaci," Miss Meuhl said sharply. "Whaffle left here three months ago," Retief said, "leaving me in charge." "Well," Miss Meuhl said, snapping off the dictyper. Miss Meuhl adjusted her glasses. "I don't recall dictating any letters today, Miss Meuhl," Retief said, pulling on a light cape. "Did you write all Whaffle's letters for him, Miss Meuhl?" "Consul Whaffle was an extremely busy man," Miss Meuhl said stiffly. "Since I'm cutting out the culture from now on," Retief said, "I won't be so busy." Miss Meuhl blinked behind thick lenses. Retief looked thoughtfully at Miss Meuhl. "You've been here on Groac for four years, Miss Meuhl. Miss Meuhl's face was set in lines of grim disapproval as he closed the door. "The impossibility of access to outworlders. Outside, Retief stood for a moment looking across at the deeply carved windowless stucco facades lining the street, then started off in the direction of the Terrestrial Consulate General. At the office, Miss Meuhl would be waiting with another list of complaints. A Groacian bartender was dispensing clay pots of alcoholic drink from the bar-pit at the center of the room. He looked at Retief and froze in mid-motion, a metal tube poised over a waiting pot. Miss Meuhl said, eyeing Retief over her lenses. "There are two gentlemen waiting to see you. Two Groaci wearing heavy eye-shields and elaborate crest ornaments indicative of rank rose as Retief entered the room. Miss Meuhl hovered nervously, then sat on the edge of a comfortless chair. Miss Meuhl gasped audibly. Miss Meuhl exclaimed, rising.
 She enjoys doing her job the way the Groacians like it.
 She enjoys training Retief to the new culture.  She wishes to be back on her home planet.  She enjoys doing her job the way the Groacians like it.  She wishes the Groacians weren't so uptight.