Well Done Fillet

Well Done Fillet

Waiter Stuff

It's the anticipation that gets you in the end....

"Cry 'Havoc,'
and let slip the dogs of war;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial."

W. Shakespeare

(who to my knowledge never worked as a waiter
but with a line like that maybe he did)
repeated from last years post

The stores are fit to burst, there is drink stashed in every possible cupboard, cubby hole, and crack in the floor.

We have enough Guinness to blacken the poo of all of Belfast's citizens.

We have four fields worth of potatoes, vegetables, and enough salad leaves to feed a thousand rabbits for a hundred years.

Many many pigs, ducks, cows, fish, and baby sheep have been put to the sword for the gluttony ahead.

The music system has been set to the dubious classics of Paddy Reilly, Tommy Makem, The Furey's, The Chieftains, The Pogues and a whole host of other Aran jumper clad men.

The chefs have showered.

The bar staff are sober(ish).

The managers have set down their clipboards.

and I, and my waiters at arms, are ready.....

....now lets have you!

(and the first person to order an Irish coffee is getting a spitter)