Genie thing

"What is it that you desire? Tell me." The visage of the great Genie loomed almost a hundred feet above him. By most rights, she wouldn't have fit. Fortunately, Alvin was standing on the roof of one of the tallest apartment high-rises in the city.

Alvin stammered trying to think of anything to say. "I...uh...come again?"

"Perhaps I misspoke. You have desires, yes? Tell them to me and I shall grant them."

"Well, it's just that...I feel like you're putting me on the spot. I can't just think of a great thing I want and tell you right away, these things need a lot of prior planning and careful wording. To say nothing of what restrictions and terms apply."

The Genie folded her arms, placing one hand to her cheek. "The world today, I swear."

"I'm sorry?"

"The last time I was released from my lamp...I'm terribly sorry, what year is it?"

"Two thousand eighteen," replied Alvin, having had to think about it a moment.

"It would have been fifteen-hundred years ago. People didn't tend to think things through nearly as carefully, and they were more up-front about what they wanted."

"But how many actually got what they wanted?" Alvin didn't intend his question to be so biting, but he couldn't contain the curiosity.

"To tell the truth, not many. But that might be more because they hadn't spoken clearly enough, or perhaps it'd be because my competition had so sullied the profession that nobody was willing to trust me with anything more important."

"Profession? I thought you genies were considered slaves."

"Slaves to the lamp, perhaps. Even I couldn't tell you why. But it does come with benefits. Room and board are all spoken for, primarily, and the costume really does breathe well during the summer months." She playfully brushed a hand down one of the silk sleeves.