Worked a cater out last night. Cater outs take everything I love about waiting tables and throws them in the garbage disposal. You set up heavy crap. The management doesn’t know what they want. Tells you to move a bunch of stuff and in the middle of moving it, they rush over and tell you to wipe down other crap. Then the guests arrive and you’re a silent smiling monkey for the rest of the night.
Right as the party got started one of the managers told me to go buy some oven mitts. Really??? You didn’t think of that yesterday? Whatever. Gets me out of monkey mode. I used my awesome HTC Evo to find a Walgreens and walked 8 blocks. I could be in a commercial. About 10 minutes after getting back, the manager tells me they’ve run out of skewers for the flank steak kabobs. Back to my Evo to find a grocery store. It was right next to the Walgreens. This time I take the subway. I get back and she says skewers are too big. Fuck. Turns out there is a small deli right next door to the event that sells exactly what she’s looking for. Whoops.
Normally, I like serving people. Making jokes, telling them about the food. You know, doing shit. But when you’re a cater monkey, you aren’t even supposed to tell people to move when you’ve got arms full if their discarded half drunk cran & vodkas. I swear these rich fucks take one sip and just leave it there.
Then when the fuckers finally leave you gotta break crap down and clean. And there was sooo much booze. Good shit too. Dewards 12 year. Bombay Sapphire, Grey Goose and Grey Goose lime (really??? you need lime flavoring in your over priced vodka.) I managed to get a few shots of the 12 year. Made the night go smoother.
I entertained myself by watching the stiff shirts go from uptight to drunk stupid. So many spills I had to clean up. To entertain myself, I’d watch the triangles people make with conversation. You really can’t have a gathering of more than 3 people. Sometimes 4, but that last person really isn’t part of what’s going on. Even with 3 the third is going to be left out somewhat. I like to watch when that left out person tries to get back into the conversation. But this one chick I couldn’t stop looking at. She was wearing pants, a sky blue blouse
like this—> in this color –>
but she was wearing one of those arm scarfs, like she was a queen.
I got done around 1am and headed to Ellen’s birthday party. Got pretty wasted, I don’t remember much after that. But when I woke up I had a text from Kelly. “We need to talk.” That can’t be good.
–Big Mack Attack