Well Done Fillet

Well Done Fillet

Waiter Stuff

Two weddings, one engagement, and no funerals(as promised)

A little dignity was lost, not mine I should say, but no one died.

Good Friday brought the usual crying and moaning from customers who couldn't get a beer. I swear it's the same every year. And every year you have to listen to the same pathetic attempts to get alcohol.

"Here, if I order food can I order a pint?"

No

"Well just give me an Irish coffee then."

NO, AND THE SHERRY TRIFLE'S OFF TOO YOU WASTING BASTARD. Or words to that effect.

You should have seen their little faces light up when the bar re-opened at 5pm. They were back slapping each other as if they had just survived a day in Iraq. Panic buying ensues for the next FIVE hours. This would have been the same all over town with the exception of the well known hostelry were the panic only set in when the local dibble showed up at 1am and arrested all that could be found. Seriously if you can't go half a day without a drink then you really need to join a 10 step programme or at the very least take a long hard look at yourself in your vodka reflection.

The first of my weekend of weddings was on Saturday lunchtime. There was a large dose of swearing and teethgrinding the night before as the table cloths were found to be lacking in the Daz doorstep challenge department. Thank God for 24 hours TESCOS. This was to be an intimate affair booked for 20, then 24, then finally 29. Thirty showed up. Love that. The days running up to the big event were tetchy to say the least. Brides to be must be up there with air traffic controllers and suicide bombers for being on edge. After a few difficult phone calls during the week email became our prefered form of communication.

But by Saturday the histrionics were over, her's that is, mine were only just begining. The GM was still ironing table cloths or should I say bed sheets with less than an hour to go. I laid the last glasses as the guests were arriving. She truly was a joy to serve, as were her guests. It was a reminder of why I do this job (and 10% service charge). I was on top form and after a "chat" with the GM I agreed to drop any references to my own brief marriage and subsequent divorce. It was felt my cynicism wasn't needed. Whatever.

This was a very relaxed affair (my wife had one of those too, boom boom). It was the most enjoyable wedding I have worked out of the 20/30 I have been present at over the years. The groom got very relaxed. Very, very relaxed it has to be said. He declined a menu when offered informing me that vodka and diet coke were all he needed. He proceeded to nail them at a rate of knots. I assure you it was the only thing he would be nailing that night.

Easter Sunday was the usual pain in the arse. Brightend up only by the new Easter clothes. Primark and Burtons must have had a bumper week. What's with those dresses that look like fluorescent pens? The place was busting full of kids made hyperactive from eating Mars Bar Easter eggs from half seven in the morning. Wouldn't want to be there when they come down.

Monday, the day of my second wedding. Not my second marriage, the second wedding I would be at, but this time as a guest. My girlfriend, who wasn't attending, failed in her girlfriend duties as I forgot my camera and the bloody present. The service was as beautiful as it was concise. Well done Vicar. Once we got to the hotel we located the bar and the chose a place at it that provided the shortest route to the smoking area (outside). The champagne was being replenished as quickly as it was being drunk. I've made an arse of myself following this route in the past and was quickly off it and onto the Gin. If only others had followed me.

The friend I went to the wedding with is volatile to say the least and has a low threshold for the banal. The conversation (normal stuff like work, kids, the Lighthouse Family and so on) round the table had him shaking with rage. Now I can bluff my way through such bollocks, whilst dying slowly on the inside, he can't do it at all. I felt like a nervous wife, as he became drunker and louder, over compensating for him. It was like taking Oliver Reed to a Vicar's tea party.

The rest of the day can be summarised as follows:
1. Number of young metallers acosted and given impromptu lesson in rock n roll was 3.

2. Two counts of public urination, but only one in day light.

3. Number of guests traumatised by even the briefest conversation was at least a dozen.

4. Members of clergy who nearly end up in a headlock was a merciful one. I shat myself when I saw the two of them together.

5. Number of doormen required to keep our hero out once he had been informed of their decision was 7!!

6. Glasses of red wine thrown against wall, just the one as he could only hold one at a time I assume.

7. Minutes spent calming him down before I took him back to the B&B, thirty long difficult ones.

8. Time I went to bed on my first night out in months, half bloody eleven.

Despite all that the weekend was a success. My sincere congratulations and all that to those who got married and to the "Princess" at work who got engaged.

Why is divorce so expensive?
Cause it's worth it!
Been holding that back for days.