Well, in the catering business they say you gotta take the work when it’s there, and there it was, three events in 30 hours. First came a Latin Heritage luncheon at an Elite Private School on East 77th street, then came an alumni cocktail party at another Elite Private School on East 92nd street, followed by another early alumni lunch at, you guessed it, another Elite Private Institution Of Higher Learning. So on Friday I worked what is known as a Double in the catering biz, with no break in-between and you eat what you can on the go. And oh yeah, it was my birthday on Friday, so me and the Trixter went out for a few cocktails at a few upper east side Institutes Of Mass Imbibing, sometimes known as bars or pubs in the vernacular.
So if you can picture me scooping out bowls of corn & chicken & rice & cous-cous (don’t ask) to a line full of hungry First & Second Graders and then doling out beef pies & yellow rice & yuca something-or-others to Seventh & Eighth & Tenth & Eleventh Graders, on and on, they kept coming, you get an idea of how my birthday went. The panic attacks were severe this time, I wish I could tell you different. I am happy for the work, don’t get me wrong, but the accompanying anxiety is chronic. Chronic. The stress is unbelievable, although I have become quite adept at masking it so that you would almost mistake me for a happy-go-lucky guy. That’s just my defense mechanism at work.
Luckily the cocktail party Friday night was, to use another catering term, a relative piece of cake; we even did some setting up for the following day’s lunch, which was to be at the same school. The luncheon was a more elaborate affair, with about eight tables occupied by about 10 rich elderly dames, with a few attractive younger rich dames sprinkled in. Hey, I keed, I keed. It was a buffet, and part of what I had to do, a small part, was parceling out filet mignon with mushrooms & what are known as crispy onions in the biz along with salmon with orange-something-glaze sauce. Then when the ladies were finished eatin’ we bussed the tables, took everything to what is known as the sanit station then broke everything down, folding all the chairs up and putting them back in their sacks in groups of fours, then doing the thousand little things that are done after a party is over.
The proofreading jobs seem to have dried up again. It’s been 10 days since my last one.
Today is pouring raining again, putting a literal damper on Greek Easter. I’m heading over to my Aunt Vickie’s house in a little while, where a sacrificial lamb is literally roasting on a spit over a barbeque pit in the backyard, and where friends & family will gather over holiday food & spirits. It’s times like these of course when we most miss Mom, who’s been gone just over two years now. My Aunt is the closest thing I have left to my mom, along with my sister and the kids and my brother, so you cherish the moments that much more.
No comments:
Post a Comment