Sharing.....

It was Saturday night and all the guests were eating, except table 27 who had yet to grace us with their presence. This wasn't particularly annoying me despite the fact that I had already rung the tardy bell on them (ie phoned them). I was sure that they weren't coming. But all round I could see faces of contentment - the happiness and merriment was unbound. Not a bitter bunny to be seen anywhere. Well except the ones in the pies, I'm sure they were pretty bitter about life or death as the case may be.

not for sharing
apparently...

I was called by the manager on pass, the delivery hole through which all food comes, to pick up the starters for table 23. Being a good waiter and in need of building up my "good boy credits" I did exactly that without muttering or telling anyone to go "fuck themselves". My good boy credits have been falling worse than banking shares recently due to, allegedly, committing various sins such as answering back, being argumentative with guests, and making up the rules as I go. Clearly I deny it all and feel victimized, and I told them so whilst shouting at them on an unapproved smoke break.

Good boy credits cant be exchanged for anything useful like iPods and what have you but they can be pulled out when you are getting a bollocking for such sins as answering back, being argumentative with guests, and making up the rules as you go along. Clearly the notion of good boy credits is all in my head, but I like the idea of them.

But I lifted the starters of mussels in a white wine sauce thingy and a board of bread and tapenade and sauntered in an efficient and jovial manner to table 3 which was amusing seeing as I was supposed to be going to table 23. Minus two credits for that. But I eventually found my way, complete with cooling mussels and the bread, to table 23 where I was greeted by two chaps baring more than a striking resemblance to Siegfried and Roy.

Seriously if anything deserved an Awesome-o it was that. Looking like Siegfried and Roy is a challenge anywhere, but in Belfast? Crikey!

I had to pause for a moment to absorb the camp majesty of the two of them. It was the badly dyed hair that got me at first, it was so bad and so out of place, on top of their heads that is, that I felt that I should get them both separate places for their respective bonces. And it wasn't just the shiny hair it was the shiny faces and shiny teeth too. It was all just too much. They needed to turn down the glare. They both smiled at me with big toothy blinding smiles which was more than a touch unnerving for me as I tried to conceal my own milky brown nashers.

Roy, fake black hair and grey eyebrows and favouring a rub on tan, was having the mussels. Siegfried, fake blonde hair blackish grey eyebrows and clearly favouring the charing of a sun bed, was having the bread not that this stopped him sampling some of Roy's mussels. And it was this sampling that started the trouble.

"Whatcha doing there Mr Siegfried?" asked Roy with more than a dollop of drama.

"Oh get over yourself Mr Roy, I'm just trying a mussel. You don't normally complain." replied Siegfried with a similar sized dollop of entendre.

But Roy wasn't laughing. I shuffled off at a quick pace to get him a finger bowl for his mussels. This was going somewhere and I didn't want to miss it.

"If you wanted mussels you should have just ordered them." Roy had a huff on and had dragged his bowl of mussels towards himself in an attempt to keep shifty Siegfried away from them.

"You want some of my bread?"

"It's not a fair swap Mr Siegfried and you know it."

"Oh for fu....sake." He suppressed the swear word for my benefit, which was nice, not needed but nice all the same.

This was mucho fun and I was really getting into it when table 27 finally made an appearance. Arse, now they really had annoyed me, imagine, dragging me away from the mussel spat on 23. But after a while I had to go back to the magic men on table 23. I cleared the starter dishes and tried to cut the atmosphere, but to no success.

"Excuse me waiter..." it was Roy, "...can you get Mr Siegfried some chips with his main course...."

Siegfried cut in with,"Oh. My. God. You are so childish"

"Well waiter, he didn't order them and he's not getting any of mine."

I had to focus on dead tigers to stop myself bursting into laughter. I ordered the extra chips and after a wee wait I served their food. They still weren't talking to each other. Roy had swiveled to the side and was facing out into the restaurant and away from Siegfried. This was so daft and all over a few pinched mussels.

But isn't that part of the fun of going out to eat, the sharing, the trying of your partners food. It is when we go out. I mean Little Miss Manuel is forever shoveling bits of steak and peculiar fish onto my plate and occasionally a few morsels head back the other way. Sometimes the kitchen will send out large bowls of chips and vegetables etc when its a large table. These are intended as share bowls. But you can bet me any money you want that at least one idiot, who was most probably not slapped enough as a child, will start bitching and moaning about wanting a bowl of their own. It's so fucking tedious and so completely infantile.

Sharing is a good thing. Embrace the sharing, well at least don't fall out over it. Let your forks wander and move your plates closer not further apart.

In the end Mr Siegfried and Mr Roy made up and shared a chocolate cake. As for the late comers on table 27,

I shared my sarcasm and bitterness with them.........

So are you a sharer or a hoarder of food?