Take some responsibility.....

Some weekends are too much for a chap like me to take, no really I mean that. This weekend in particular really was the height of too muchism. Oh yes I'm all for giving, especially during the Yuletide season, but some people just give too much.

Bob from accounting was a right shit with a drink in him....

Take the young lady who, along with fifteen of her work colleagues and chums, was booked for dinner late on Saturday night, she gave far too much. Far far too much. She took it upon herself to add extra spice to the festive sauce by giving everybody who cared to look, and a few who probably could have lived without it, and long jiggly look at her bosoms. That's right she undid the two buttons on her blouse (are they still called blouses?) and gave it some. The little old lady on the table nearby was mortified and wasn't sure who be more angry with - me, the jiggly woman, or her own husband.

She took a swig from a bottle of beer, buttoned herself back up and then plonked herself back in her seat and asked for the cranberry sauce. It was sort of awesome when you think about it. Not the boobie flashing per se but rather the way she did it.

"That's right I got em out, move on."

Still we cant have people exposing themselves at will, there is enough of that sort of malarky in the kitchen, so someone had to have a word. It's funny how busy a gawping collective of waiters can suddenly become when there unpleasantness to be delivered. So off the manager popped to execute his managerial duties. Before he had even got back to the bar there was an almighty,"Yeeeeeeeeooooooowwwwww" from Belfast's answer to Dita Von Tease. More Deirdre than Dita it has to be said.

"So how'd that go then?", I cheekily asked the red faced boss man who just raised his eyebrows and wandered off.

But it has to be said that the guests this year have been remarkably well behaved in comparison to almost every other. Is this a result of the credit crunch? Are mentalists more susceptible to the lack of easy credit than other better behaved members of society? Who knows? And indeed who cares just as long as the mentalist count is kept at a manageable level.

At the last count there were only three recorded Christmas Mentalists, including Flasher McBoobies, two counts of Christmas Crying and a tremendously low count of only two acts of Christmas Scroogism. That last fact is in itself a record.

But you know what I find odd, the reaction of work chums when one of their party drops the mentalist bomb and switches from being mild manner Paul from accounting to bonkers boy who hates the world and tries to eat the table. Because quite often they just sit back and ignore the problem, there is a complete abdication of responsibility. The crazy kid is left sitting in a pool of their own piss and cranberry sauce. So many times I have seen people lose it badly at xmas functions and the only person mopping their furrowed mono brow and saying, "Now now" was the waiter serving them. That cant be right can it?

"Johnny's gone ga-ga? Let the waiter wipe his metaphorical poo up", they say. Let me tell you the poo ain't always metaphorical.

There was a chap last week who lost it in the worst way. He was necking whiskey like he was a Scotsman at a wedding with a free bar. His work chums kept buying him more and more and more. Eventually there was a coming together of table and head. He hit his boss, knocking him to the floor. He then became very emotional as we tried to get him out. He screamed that he wanted to be dead, he wanted someone to kill him.

It was shocking.

As he was held to the ground he continued screaming about not wanting to live any more and what have you. Eventually the police had to take him away. Not that he took that well. Did anybody from his table, his work colleagues that is, try and calm him down? Did they try to talk to the police? Did they show any compassion or concern?

Not a fucking chance of it.

And this shocks me. It was the same with the lady from Saturday night. Not one of her work colleagues tried to calm her down or maybe take the drink from her. Nobody did a thing. Nobody apart from us and all we can do is just not serve them any more booze. It worried me that if her supposed friends couldn't or wouldn't look out for her when they were still sober who was going to look out for her when they were all drunk? It doesn't bear thinking about.

I'd like to think that if I was dangling my waiter's chum out of my trousers during a drink fueled mentalist moment that someone would take me aside and sober me up. I'd like to think I would do the same. Why is there no love out there people? Why do we not want to take care of the people around us? It cant be left to the waiters and bar staff can it? I mean I'm a waiter, I'll bring your food and your drink. I'll crack jokes if you want a joke. I'll listen to your anecdotes and massage your ego. I'll also do your pockets when you're lying there on the cold hard concrete puking on my shoes. I'm your waiter, not the poo cleaner upper, metaphorical or otherwise, of your mentalist work chums. Take some responsibility.

Christmas is coming and the waiter is getting fat (well he is off the smokes)

Christmas is coming. This startling and most fear inducing of facts only really dawned on me the other night as I was about to roll over to sleep. I mean I knew it was coming but I guess I had blocked it out in the same way we block out thoughts of our own mortality. Yes the two are the same. I was all snug and warm and had the duvet right up to my chin and had tucked the rest of the duvet under my generous bulk. I'm not saying I was aiming for the caterpillar cocoon type thing but that's the way it ended up. Well it was until I realised that the season of the Crier, the Mentalist and the Drunk was fast approaching.

I spent the next few hours breathing into a brown paper bag. There is nothing I can do to halt the oncoming cavalcade of christmas chaos. There is nothing I can do but re-post last years guides to surviving The Office Party......

The Well Done Fillet Guide to Surviving the Office Party Part 1
The Well Done Fillet Guide to Surviving the Office Party Part 2
The Well Done Fillet Guide to Surviving the Office Party Part 3
The Well Done Fillet Guide to Surviving the Office Party Part 4

Ten days people, ten short days, get em read...

Assholes, they are like busses...

chaos theory
if you show up late, you don't get dessert...

You wait all weekend for an asshole and then 15 show up at once. Which is nice. Sorry did I say nice? I meant to say it's fucking typical. To be exact it wasn't 15, five of the guests showed up on time the other ten arrived over a 45 minute period. Which was nice. Sorry did I say nice again? I meant to say it was frustrating to the point of stabbing. Each one of the late comers was greeted by me at the door with "Oh yes you were booked for 7.15, they are waiting for you." But no one seemed to get my dig or care. They just meandered in like cows ambling around a field, without a care in the world. So by the time the last of the guests arrived they were a total of 45 minutes into their 2 hour sitting without so much as sprout having been served. Whilst the rest of the restaurant was stuffing their bakes with turkey and ham my table were pondering which course they weren't going to get.

You see it's just not possible to serve 4 courses in an hour and fifteen minutes. Cant be done. No chance. Forget about it. So I approached the table and put the situation to them, a whole course had to go. Some people didn't quite get what I meant. In order to comfortably enjoy two courses of food one entire course had to disappear altogether. Some people were happy to drop their first course some were happy to forgo their desserts. And they thought this was the situation resolved. Good holy fuck this was becoming harder than the time I had to explain the Chaos Theory to a group of Vietnamese Sailors, (chaos theory describes the behavior of certain nonlinear dynamical systems that may exhibit dynamics that are highly sensitive to initial conditions (popularly referred to as the butterfly effect). As a result of this sensitivity, which manifests itself as an exponential growth of perturbations in the initial conditions, the behavior of chaotic systems appears to be random. This happens even though these systems are deterministic, meaning that their future dynamics are fully defined by their initial conditions, with no random elements involved. This behavior is known as deterministic chaos, or simply chaos). Obviously.

After further discussion, the drawing of a large clock, a quick explanation of how a modern professional kitchen works, and version of, "He's got the whole world in his hands" it was decided that desserts would be cut from tonight's menu. Fantastico! We were getting somewhere. Drinks and first courses served. I started to relax a bit and decided it was time to climb down from my very high horse. The guests at the table were a little scared of me and I was feeling bad for them. My initial tone may have been that of a shitty head teacher. So I decided to cut them a little slack. I schmoozed them with a bit of silky banter. They were actually quite nice, for dentists that is. A bit of Restaurant Rainman work later and I had changed the table plan for the evening allowing the tardy dentists plenty of time to scoff our Christmas Pudding and custard.

I know I know I'm too soft....

But this was only possible by relocating a table in the next sitting to a very peculiar position somewhere between the toilets and the delta nebulous. Not a pretty place to be but if there was any grief from the next table I would schmooze my way out of it with a round of drinks or something. As it happens there was a minor moment of, "Oh is this our table....?" from the next group of guests. I bullshitted more than I schmoozed, but it worked and that's all that counts. They got a great meal with greater service and a fantastic view of the toilets and I got tipped handsomely by the dentists who seemed happy to pay the "we are sorry we stressed you out by being late and are really happy you sorted us out with our desserts even thought we took up more of your time than we should have" tax without me having to suggest it. Now that is nice.

We had our first Christmas crier and first Christmas mentalist of the season tonight. And it wasn't very nice to watch at all. Normally we sit back and marvel at the mentalist as they let a full year of grievances out on their bosses. Normally we snigger and giggle cruelly at the Christmas crier, making up a back story for their public crying fit. But not tonight. Both Christmas offenders were on the same table, a table for two. EEK! The restaurant was a cacophony of noise. There was much laughter and over exuberance on the behalf of the table of 30 bin men. But the atmosphere was great. The music system was playing all the tunes it refused to do on Friday. But this was broken by the raised voices from one table. A man's voice. We all shot looks at each other and raised eyebrows. Plates were dropped off without being scrapped, drinks orders were put on hold. We had to see. But by now Mr Shouty big voice was standing up and trying to force money into his partners hand. She wouldn't take it and was trying to calm him down. She knew we were all watching. We knew she knew we were all watching so we pretended to go back to work. He stormed off leaving the money on the table. She cried. Oh what to do. I went over to see if she was okay and give her a napkin for her tears. What the hell else was I gonna do? She just wanted out of there quickly. She handed me the money Mr Shouty had thrown on the table and left. And you know what, that's the biggest tip they have ever left me. They are normally quite mean. So more tantrums if you please. I like a crier and mentalist as much as the next waiter but come on, don't make me have to feel bad for you too. Waiters, seeking gratuities where there is only pain and crying. We are a classy bunch.....

Not sure how the whole blogging thing is gonna work in December. I will have the stories but may be short on the energy to write them.........

The WellDoneFillet Guide to Surviving The Office Christmas Party Part II

Behind every Mike in HR lies a true
Christmas Mentalist

So we all know the joy that is the Christmas Crier, the bag of cats that is the Christmas Mentalist, the ball licking sycophant and the Christmas lothario who wants to do more than kiss under the mistletoe. There is nothing I can do to stop Christmas Party goers from doing a Jekyll and Hyde personality swap before the soup goes cold. But if you follow the WellDoneFillet Guide to Surviving The Office Christmas Party you should manage not to get your head caved in by the mentalist, spend 3 hours in the toilet rubbing the criers back, avoid getting shagged by the married rat and not get a written warning from the job worth. It's all in a handy cut and keep section I call,

The WellDoneFillet Guide to Surviving The Office Christmas Party
(Catchy eh)

Let's start with the CHRISTMAS MENTALIST. The mentalist is the person most likely to put you in hospital. Whilst annoying, the Christmas Crier wont stab you in the eye with a dessert fork or subject you to a spit filled tirade of abuse. The mentalist needs to be avoided at all costs. Spotting the mentalist is the key to your survival. As you sit at your table waiting for the waiter to bring you your Campari and Soda take a moment to look around the table. Don't stop to admire the lovely dresses and new ties look for the person with the 1000 yard stare. They wont look obvious at at first but look beyond the party hat. The Christmas Mentalist wont be talking to anyone but will probably be jittery, will spend about five minutes polishing their cutlery, and wont have taken their coat off despite having been in the restaurant for 45 minutes. That's your guy. Stay away from them. Make no eye contact. Do not buy them a drink, it's like feeding a gremlin after midnight, don't do it. Don't engage them in conversation, but should you find yourself in a situation were you have to talk to them keep it brief and general. Don't bring up any issues that are likely to set them off, for example promotions that they missed, in fact stay off all work related stuff. Stick to topics such as the weather, who will get the Christmas number one, and if they like "It's a Wonderful Life". The Mentalist is at their most threatening when they are on the move, much like hippos. Know where the mentalist is at all times and be somewhere else. And when the mentalist finally flips and the red crazy mist descends it's always good to have someone between you and the crazy person chucking the knives, preferably a new person so you don't feel too bad when they get split like a Twix bar. Avoid the mentalist at all costs. But you might want to bring some band aids with you just in case.

The CHRISTMAS CRIER can ruin your night, ruin it not with dessert forks or threats of physical violence but with tears and napkins and cry's of "No one loves me." Oh it's bad so very very bad, and sad. But how do you spot the Christmas Crier? Who's the one that you are going to spend the night in the toilet with? Identifying the Christmas Crier is so much easier than the Christmas Mentalist. They will have a track record of crying in public, most likely at your last staff outing and around any holidays of significance. You need to know these things before you sit down. Because once you sit beside the Christmas Crier you are stuck with them for the rest of the night. They will glue themselves to you like a limpet. Escape is futile and when they inevitably do break down you will be expected to go to the toilet with them and sit there for hours and rub their back and tell them everything is okay. The Christmas Crier is going to cry, you can't stop it. But you can delay it. Keep their alcohol consumption to the minimum, dilute their wine/vodka with water. Encourage them to drink lots of water. Avoid all conversations about relationships, family, pets, weight issues, and what's happening in the soaps. If anyone around you and the cry baby starts a conversation regarding these issues you need to jump in fast and change track quickly. Stick to dull matters such as cars, wallpaper, mobile phones and Adam Sandler movies. If you have avoided the Christmas Crier well done, now stay away. But if you have the Christmas Crier in their pre-Crying state you need to get rid of them and quick because like I already said they are going to lose it at some point. The best way is to attach and run. Move with the Christmas Crier to a another group of co-workers, start a conversation about relationships (that's the attach) and then make your excuses and run, run Forest run, and don't look back......

The CHRISTMAS HUMPER & THE CHRISTMAS DRUNK are quite often one in the same person. And like the Christmas Crier they will have form for both crimes. Think, who got drunk at the charity lunch quiz? Who smells of drink at 9 in the morning every morning? What happens when you get two drunks together? You get drunks humping. Look round the room for the guys and gals with their arm around the person beside them within five minutes of arrival. When the boss orders wine they will be the person that calls the waiter over and doubles it. They also arrived there an hour before everyone else. With their inhibitions lowered and senses dulled thanks to tequila and rum the Christmas Drunk starts putting the moves on. They start high but after ten rejections they will hump the bus boy or even you. You need to be strong and firm. There's no point in telling them you are in a relationship already that's nothing more than details/challenge to the horny drunk. Tell them that you would rather sleep with a rabid dog with herpes than put your tongue in their mouth. Do it loud, do it in front of everybody, and don't worry about their feelings, the person you work with is essentially dead and has been replaced with and walking horn. That warning is enough to put them off. They are drunk so expect some sort of nasty reply. You will most likely be called frigid/gay/straight/impotent. Still better to be called names than get chlamydia or herpes from the office skank (either male or female). Oh and watch for them turning into the Christmas Crier or Christmas Mentalist after. If all else fails make sure you bring condoms.

Secret Santa is a pile of cheap nasty poo. Don't get excited, keep your expectations low and you wont be disappointed. The Office Sycophant can be a problem. They normally don't get drunk and tend to remember everything that happens. They remember and will use it against you for another year. You can just try and avoid them but that isn't really a viable option as they are like cockroaches and just keep showing up. The best way to deal with them is to get them drunk, take photographs and then relax. Chances are they will turn into a mentalist or crier.
You have worked hard all year and are entitled to your night out as much as the rest of the space cadets and freaks that you work with. Don't let the bastards ruin your night. If all else fails get hammered, shag the office junior and then smash the place up........

It's what I used to do.....

(Tomorrow, How to help the waiter help you enjoy your Christmas night out. You will need to take notes)

Tis the season to be jolly (or cry, go mental, and try it on with the 19 year old office junior) Brilliant!

Happy Christmas

(you bastard)

It's five weeks to Christmas. Thirty five and a half days from now it will all be over for another year. I say 35 and a half because it's all over by tea-time really, isn't it? By then you are slumped in front of the TV jacked up on mince pies and Baileys watching the Vicar of Dibley wondering if it would be bad manners to go and check your email. (It is by the way.) That is of course if you were involved in the whole racket in the first place. Some people opt out of the Christmas thingy, conscientious objectors, if you will, of the Yuletide season. And I have no problem with them. The thing about Christmas is that you cant sit on the fence, you have to go for it at 1000mph with golden balls and twinkling lights or get the fuck out of the manger all together. There's no in between. But what cant be avoided is the Office's Christmas night out. That's were I come in.

Whilst it maybe 35 days to Christmas it's only 10 days to the start of the Christmas party season, can you feel it people can ya, can ya, eh eh? There is nothing better than having to go out on an all day bender with people you would normally cross the road to get away from. People you cant fucking stand because they are dull or they smell or because they grind on your tits for most of the year. Then you are expected to eat turkey and cranberry sauce with them. Not a fucking chance matey. Oh I see you, with your fake smiles, and air kissing, and the "oh you look fabulous" crap but moments later it's back to your clique and it's all whispering and dirty looks. You stink up my restaurant with your hypocrisy and cheap perfume/cologne.

Worse than the back biting and hate filled smiles are the sycophants and brown nosers. Manuel sees you too. They sit near the boss, normally facing them. They don't start eating until the boss starts eating. They order water if the boss orders water. They are non-committal on whether they are enjoying their meal until the boss says whether they are enjoying their sprout and chestnut risotto (which little man arse kisser ordered too despite originally ordering the turkey but switched because the boss was having the risotto.) If the boss ain't happy the suck-up goes into over drive, shouting and ranting and blaming the waiter. They demand everything be done to correct the problem, normally completely unreasonable demands like have the chef come down and kiss the bosses ring by way of an apology. Meanwhile whilst little man arse kisser is waiting to see the restaurant manager I am usually getting the problem sorted out and putting an end to the drama. These people are real ball busters.

And then there is the Secret Santa carry on. Tony from HR buys you a cats calendar and you got Sheila from Marketing a novelty mug which reads, "I'm a bitch." She laughs, you mean it. Oh the fucking horror of it all. Every year we end up with bags of unwanted "novelty" presents. Miniature tool kits, key rings, Bart Simpson socks, desk top skittles, Looney Tunes ties, miniature gum ball machines the list is as endless as it is painful. And they all get abandoned, either through drunken misadventure or because the recipient is offended with their Secret Santa tat. Saying that some people cling to their present like it was given to them by one of the 3 Wise men. There they are at closing time nursing their office golf set like it was their first born child despite being so drunk they don't even know their own name. Sad beyond words.

Then there is the Christmas crier. Awh bless them. Before the Yule Log and coffee is served there will be somebody crying their eyes out. There is one in every office at every party on every shift. They get dragged to the toilets by their co-workers, who later on will say they knew it was going to happen. There they are the four of them in one cubicle in the toilets all crying together because Tony/Jane in Sales hasn't noticed them or made a cruel joke. The first Christmas Crier last year was clocked within two hours of Christmas Service starting. I'm running a book this year, the first Christmas Crier, how many Christmas Criers, and the ratio of male to female Christmas Criers. I love the Christmas Crier, they make me feel like a normal well balanced individual by comparison. But they aren't the worst offenders. The Christmas Crier is the close relative of the Christmas Mentalist.

I absolutely love the Christmas Mentalist, as long as there are a number of doormen between me and the crazy bastard that is. The Christmas Mentalist, as the name suggests, loses the plot in the worst way. It's a combination of too much drink, which they cant handle, and a whole years resentment and hate bubbling under their Three Piece Suit. What makes the Christmas Mentalist such a fun character is that it's always the last person anyone in the office would suspect to be a grade A basket case. But we can spot them. They have a blank stare, and wear two watches and have manic hair. Their co-workers don't see the signs because they haven't seen him all year despite being in the same office. And that's normally the problem. We had one guy go absolutely stark raving bonkers a year or two ago. Tables and chairs were sent across the bar, followed by glasses, bottles, and the guy that brings the office mail. Oh yes he went daft. He was "escorted" out by three doormen who he decided to take on as well. He regretted that. He did it the year before at another restaurant. Crikey he must have a few issues.

nice

Ah I love the mentalist, especially when they set the Christmas Crier off who then sets of little man arse kisser. Office Christmas Parties are the best. They are a real leveler. The supposedly more professional the group the more they ridiculous they act. For example I had a table of school teachers last year that I had to tell off for throwing wet napkins at each other and shouting at the top of their voices. And then there was the table of lawyers that drank so much alcohol that one of the group actually shit themselves. They threatened to sue us for chucking them out, a suit that never arrived I should add. How do these people face each other again back at work? Married people trying it on with the office junior, the boss in tears, the mentalist, the super drunk, how?

Ten more days people, ten more days until the "normality" of my lovely little restaurant gets bastardised by filthy office parties. Oh the horror, oh the humanity, if it wasn't the most lucrative four weeks of the year I'd go out on the sick until it was over. So who are you, the mentalist, the crier, the lover, or the brown noser?

(Tomorrow, how to survive your office Christmas party)