Memorable waiting moments....?

For some unaccountable reason, I have always had a passion for waitressing, or to be more topically pc, waiting (even though that sounds like you're just standing there, literally, waiting!).

At work in the state public service when I first left school, even though I had a good job, I still aspired to be a waitress. My impression was that I needed experience before being able to get a job in that area. Ultimately, by fair means or foul, I got into my job of choice.

I worked in only about 6 establishments round Hobart, but those jobs spanned 25 years. I have many treasured moments from those times, but a few stand out, one of which I'm going to describe today, for your amusement.

I mentioned a few weeks ago having worked at the Valley Lodge in Augusta Road. In its heyday (or is that 'hayday'?) it was THE place for both restaurant and function catering, and round the hugely hectic pre-Christmas season, we could be catering for up to 5 separate functions in one evening, both on the premises and with outside catering.

On the occasion in question, the outside catering job we'd been contracted to do took the form of a Cray Bake on Bruny Island. The owner of Valley Lodge at the time was Geoff Pollard, an ex-North Hobart footballer. Geoff secured bookings for many functions through his extensive networking in the footy world - hence this one.

The brief: all waitstaff (four of us) to meet at the Valley Lodge dressed in black & white formal gear (ie long black skirt!!); load up the van, ensuring absolutely NOTHING left out as the ultimate destination on Bruny was a private estate with no shops around; staff then loaded into the van with each of us then being handed into the van to rest on our laps a large silver platter of hors d'oevres, all ready to be offered to the guests on Bruny.

So - we drove to Tinderbox - carefully. We alighted from the van on the beach at Tinderbox. We were then ferried, one by one, still delicately holding our silver platters of hors d'oevres & trying to keep our long skirts dry and out of the way (and who the hell knows how you're meant to bring your bag along too, but that really was not important!) in a rowing boat to Barry Woodruff's boat which was moored further out in the Derwent. The sight of each waitress transferring from rowing boat to sailboat (still trying to keep her platter full of hors d'oevres level!) would have been wonderful for a disinterested onlooker!

We sailed across the river to the private jetty attached to the property where the function was just starting. One of our previously arrived chefs had already commenced the cray preparations, and the evening went off without a hitch, except for one of the waitresses loosing her watch on the return rowing boat trip later that night, but of all the things that COULD have gone wrong, that really didn't rate!

So there you have a bit of background as to why I might find todays general lack of customer service so frustrating. I just can't envisage many of those sleek young bodies of today accomodating an exciting adventure into waitressing like that! Maybe I do them an injustice? I hope so.