Manuel in the Twilight Zone, ooohhhhhh

"there is something afoot at the circle k...."

Whilst perusing the restaurant booking sheets last weekend I became very aware that this week would be a challenge for so many reasons. The last week of June is never a fun week to work. I've known people to book this week off, grown men cry at the thought of it, support groups have been formed to talk through the losses of previous years battles, chefs drink more, bar staff snort more, the place is gripped by fear. What, I hear you ask, could cause so much pant wetting and gnashing of teeth? What hideous beasts could leave even the bravest of waiters shaking in his size 7 (don't laugh) slip on's? The answer is simple....

...TEACHERS

LOTS & LOTS OF TEACHERS.

They finish school this week and, as is their custom, they got out for a jolly old knees up. Now if the thought of thousands of shitty little snot nosed brats roaming the streets during the day isn't scary enough serving their teachers is. Teachers can't stop being teachers when they are not in school. I swear one of them shouted "boy" at me last year! Dick. They shout, huff, puff, and spend the whole time talking down to you.

You boy. Come here. What's this?

Braised lamb shank sir.

And what is it meant to come with?

Puy lentils sir

AND?

And minted jus sir.

And where is my minted jus boy?

Dunno sir.

Dunno sir?

Go to the kitchen, you do know where the kitchen is boy, and get me my minted jus

Yes sir, sorry sir....

It is very hard to take. Also they get freaked out at the price of everything. This is due to the fact that they only go out twice a year, June and Christmas.

So I was full of trepidation last night as I approached my first table of teachers this week. I took a deep breath and announced my presence to the table of 21. And they were absolutely lovely. I mean no swearing at me. No one huffed or puffed, no one threatened to go to the papers about the price of wine, no one gave me detention or a thousand lines to do. I was so dumbstruck I went to the booking sheets to ensure that I was serving teachers and not 21 puppy breeders (notoriously happy people). I was hugged. Each one of them thanked me and shook my hand. One lady even went as far as to feel me up. Which was more than a bit weird. They paid their bill including service charge and left extra on top. All very odd.

But this week has been very odd. Another problem group decided not to play by the rules of stereotype and acted all reasonable.

French tourists can be very difficult. The wine is never cold enough, the food is never sexy enough. The restaurant is always the wrong temperature and the waiter is never quick enough or too quick or not sexy enough and so on. So having 72 of them booked for lunch on Tuesday was always going to challenge my patience. But again they were brilliant! No clicking of fingers, no "What ees thees?". No complaints about the Chilean wine. No complaints about the size of my ass.

The only problem I had with serving the French was my accent. I was slipping in the bits of French that I know in order to impress my guests. This seemed to go over well. But when I spoke to them in English I kept putting on a dodgy French accent. Why would I do that? It was all very "ALLO ALLO". And not required at all.

So teachers and French people have burst my stereotyped views this week. It's all very Twilight zone-ish. What next? Christians tipping? Ha!

I have a 13 hour shift on Friday and I am positive the stereotype of teachers will be reaffirmed again....