Thirty is the magic number

Oh it's been so busy of late. So so busy. I'm not complaining, much, but I have started to take a tube of vaseline with me to work. It makes the nightly shafting so much easier to take. I have to say we have been jolly brilliant too, the kitchen have been sober and quick and the punters, for the most part, cooperative and pleasant. The only exception being the table of twenty four that showed up one evening without having gone through the tedious 2 minute process of reserving a table in advance. They all thought that somebody else had done it. Oh how the chuckled when they realised that nobody had. There was less chuckling from the Waiter Chums working that night. It's probably a blessing for all concerned that I was not there.

waiter-lube
makes it easier to bear...

Even I have have been remarkably tantrum free, I did whinge for a day or three about tips, but still I was in sparkling form. There was a snappy/gruff period in the middle of Easter sunday when Waiter Chum Number 1 managed to annoy me. She snapped at me for seating a four top on a table that was in the middle of being deconstructed by a ten year old with sticky fingers and a huge case of OCD. Honestly he had arranged the cutlery into the shape of a crop circle. Impressive for sure but annoying, mainly for Waiter Chum Number 1. But chocolate soothed over our petulant moment.

But it appears that our customers are only happy when they arrive in groups of 30 or more. Take last week, we had...

A table of thirty singles from a singles/friendship club. Awh bless their little lonely hearts. But they were so sweet and lovely. Terrible ratio of women to men though and what men there were wouldn't have captivated the heart of even the most desperate of women. But they all had a giggle and seemed to love it. But it was hard serve them without going, "Awh" and feeling sorry for them. Probably no need as they were the ones who were drunk and I was the one with the sore smelly feet.

Then we had a table of 37 from the Canadian Fencing team. Wow, for athletes, they sure could drink. Whiskeys were nailed at such a rate of knots it made my gargantuan head spin. By the end of the night it was just the coaches left as all the younger members of the team had gone back to their hotel for an early night, or something like that. But the coaches sat on and I couldn't help listening in as I cleared up around them. Who would have thought that the world of competitive fencing was so political. Large Canadians with French accents became really rather animated as they waxed on about the old days of fencing and how it's all changed so much. For reasons of health and safety, mine that is, I removed the large pepper mill from their table. I thought they were talking about Errol Flynn but they weren't.

To be honest it was like being in A Louis Theroux documentary such was the oddness of their discussion. When I heard they were booked I assumed there would be lots of puns in it but there was not. Foiled again. Ahem.

And finally a table of 35 old age pensioners from Florida. Oh my. They were fun if a little hard of hearing.

"CABBAGE, IT'S CABBAGE" I confirmed for a little old lady.

Her husband wasn't so sure and asked for just a "bisl".

"Cabbage? You're telling me it's cabbage? Do I want cabbage? It's cabbage, you're saying it's cabbage, why wouldn't it be cabbage. I'll take just a bisl of your cabbage if that's what you are telling me it is."

This lead to an argument between them, "HOW'S HE GONNA KNOW WHAT A BISL IS MORT? HE'S IRSH! THERE'S NO IRISH JEWS. THEY'RE ALL CATHOLIC. SOME ARE PROTESTANT BUT THEY ARE ALL CATHOLIC. THEY'RE NOT JEWISH."

I did not know what a bisl was and I'm pretty sure I went to college with an Irish Jew.

"HE JUST WANTS A LITTLE BIT OF YOUR CABBAGE", shouted the little lady. It was surprising that such a voice could be mustered from such a small frame.

"Oy vey!" indeed.

Tonight's table of 30 are Dutch, probably my favourite non-Irish people to serve, outside of Americans obviously, due simply to their awesome "acshent".

Thirty really is the magic number....