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A tale as old as time from when I waitressed in a hotel restaurant.
So it was 6.45am. Not my best time of day. We had a conference in and the restaurant was rammed. The policy (as outlined by my lord and master Stefan the evil French manager) was that when we were as rampantly busy as we were, that we should clear away crockery and cutlery as soon as possible (take a guest’s empty cereal bowl if they had moved on to toast etc etc) so it could be washed and re-laid. This was in preference to the usual method, which was to let guests finish their breakfast in peace before clearing the table.
Anyway, I was moving between tables in a mindless manner scooping up the odd plate and wondering whether I could get away with having a nap behind the buffet, when I spied a table with a couple sitting there, amid a positive mountain of plates and bowls. ‘Banzai!’ think I, and scurry over. Now keep in mind, they were at a table for four, and were sitting opposite each other at the far end, so that closest to me were two spare places, which was where the used crockery was. Seems pretty straightforward to just go over and clear it, right? Wrong.
Me: minion of the mighty Stefan
SC: man so scary he should be a tool in aversion therapy
SCW: wife of SC who did fuck all
Me: Just going to clear this away for you… *dum de dum, when is my smoke break…*
SC: How DAAAAAARRRE YOOOOOOU!!!????
He stands up, and I realise that is incredibly big. Like … 6 foot 7 inches. And broad. Like something you would use to haul freight. And bears an uncanny resemblance to O.J. Simpson.
Me: Wha? *Stepping back with a nimble bound that any antelope would be proud of*
SC: You are RUDE!!!! Incredibly RUDE! How DARE you interrupt our breakfast???
My arm was still extended to grab a bowl and he pushed it away and clamped both my arms to my sides and I do believe, gave me a shake. All this time his wife was still eating her toast! I went into default mode and gave him the most hatred-filled look I have ever given anyone. If he had been human his skin would have melted and his eyeballs would have popped like overripe plums.
SC: Did your parents teach you nothing??? GO AWAY!
My parents taught me that if a huge man is shouting and shaking me I should run like fuck. Which I did. Directly to Stefan (who had seen the whole thing), and whose response was ‘Ai deed not think zat ee deed anyzing zat bad to yuu.’ Wanker. Later that day I found out that he had made an official complaint about me to the front desk. Luckily it was discounted when, upon not finding the receptionist apologetic enough, he accused her of being ‘Incredibly RUDE!!!!!’ and tried to shake her. At which point he was escorted from the premises.
BOO YAH!
So it was 6.45am. Not my best time of day. We had a conference in and the restaurant was rammed. The policy (as outlined by my lord and master Stefan the evil French manager) was that when we were as rampantly busy as we were, that we should clear away crockery and cutlery as soon as possible (take a guest’s empty cereal bowl if they had moved on to toast etc etc) so it could be washed and re-laid. This was in preference to the usual method, which was to let guests finish their breakfast in peace before clearing the table.
Anyway, I was moving between tables in a mindless manner scooping up the odd plate and wondering whether I could get away with having a nap behind the buffet, when I spied a table with a couple sitting there, amid a positive mountain of plates and bowls. ‘Banzai!’ think I, and scurry over. Now keep in mind, they were at a table for four, and were sitting opposite each other at the far end, so that closest to me were two spare places, which was where the used crockery was. Seems pretty straightforward to just go over and clear it, right? Wrong.
Me: minion of the mighty Stefan
SC: man so scary he should be a tool in aversion therapy
SCW: wife of SC who did fuck all
Me: Just going to clear this away for you… *dum de dum, when is my smoke break…*
SC: How DAAAAAARRRE YOOOOOOU!!!????
He stands up, and I realise that is incredibly big. Like … 6 foot 7 inches. And broad. Like something you would use to haul freight. And bears an uncanny resemblance to O.J. Simpson.
Me: Wha? *Stepping back with a nimble bound that any antelope would be proud of*
SC: You are RUDE!!!! Incredibly RUDE! How DARE you interrupt our breakfast???
My arm was still extended to grab a bowl and he pushed it away and clamped both my arms to my sides and I do believe, gave me a shake. All this time his wife was still eating her toast! I went into default mode and gave him the most hatred-filled look I have ever given anyone. If he had been human his skin would have melted and his eyeballs would have popped like overripe plums.
SC: Did your parents teach you nothing??? GO AWAY!
My parents taught me that if a huge man is shouting and shaking me I should run like fuck. Which I did. Directly to Stefan (who had seen the whole thing), and whose response was ‘Ai deed not think zat ee deed anyzing zat bad to yuu.’ Wanker. Later that day I found out that he had made an official complaint about me to the front desk. Luckily it was discounted when, upon not finding the receptionist apologetic enough, he accused her of being ‘Incredibly RUDE!!!!!’ and tried to shake her. At which point he was escorted from the premises.
BOO YAH!
Lurch was a teddy bear!
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