Why I wait tables

It was near 11pm and I'd been swishing, swirling, schmoozing, and even serving a very sweet table of 15 for most of the night. They had my full and undivided attention as they were in the private dining room, and as the name suggests they were on their own. And by undivided attention I really mean when I was in the room, the rest of the time I was in the kitchen watching the hardcore ballet that is Saturday night service. I may joke and even say some cruel things about chefs from time to time but momma those boys work hard for their drinking tokens.

They ordered well, good food such as the salt and chilli squid and fennel salads to start and venison and fillet of beef (rare) for mains. The wine flowed all night long. Which was a bit of a pain in the fat arse for me as the wine store and the private dining room are far far away from each other. Okay not that far but when you are carrying a few extra pounds from Christmas it hurts a little more. (How many Pounds from how many Christmases?-LMM)

Their conversation was varied and good humoured as they covered everything from childhood stories to football to why moving to Canada didn't work for one of them, apparently she got homesick when she couldn't get white lemonade. Like I say they had my undivided attention, and if you hadn't realised already waiters hear everything. They laughed warm hearty laughs and went quiet and spoke in hushed tones when they remembered friends that wouldn't be making it to any more birthday parties. It was sincere and genuine.

I have served this group many times before. They like me and I like their generous spirit, I mean tips for anyone who didn't get the subtlety. They all know me by my first name and favour it over clicking fingers and "oi". I shared with them a few stories and a bit of craic, but I know when to back off. It's not all about me, mores the pity. Except on here, this is all about me. They trust my advice, on matters of eating that is, I'm sure they would disregard my advice on bringing up children and the best way to wallpaper a house. For the record I advise painting instead of wallpapering but what would I know never having painted or papered anything more than a school book in my life.

But it was near eleven and I would soon be turning into a pumpkin. The night had flown by and before long I was hovering near the table with my patented "do you want the bill" look. Hint taken, bill delivered, my time to disappear and let them sort my tip out and the rest of the money owed. As they got up to leave and after I had been handsomely rewarded they turned round and gave me a round of applause. I blushed in a way I hadn't done since watching TV with my dad as a child and a sanitary towel advert came on.

The woman who was celebrating her birthday approached me saying thanks and gave me a hugis. A hugis is what I do when I'm not sure if I'm meant to kiss them on the cheek or hug them. So i just do a bit of both, it's as clumsy as it sounds. But as she pulled back she said,

"Thanks Manuel for everything tonight. You were great, the food was okay, but we always come back here for you."

Sometimes I forget why I wait tables and then I remember......

...it's all about the generous spirit.

Okay it's about the hugis too.

***************

6th of February 1958

"United's flag is deepest red; It shrouded all our Munich dead; Before their limbs grew stiff and cold; Their heart's blood dyed it's ev'ry fold; Then raise United's banner high; Beneath it's shade we'll live and die; So keep the faith and never fear; We'll keep the Red Flag flying here;

Then raise United's banner high; Beneath it's shade we'll live and die; So keep the faith and never fear; We'll keep the Red Flag flying here;

"We'll never die, we'll never die We'll never die, we'll never die We'll keep the Red flag flying high; 'Cause Man United will never die"

It's hard not to shed a tear for The Flowers of Manchester........