As a cater waiter, you get used to being at really crowded parties with people poking at you to get a bite of tuna tartar. I can’t stand being touched when I am working. Don’t tap me on the shoulder, pull my elbow, grab my arm or even look at me funny. It pisses me off and makes me ignore you for the rest of the night. If some lady is annoying me, I can make sure that no other cater waiter gets within ten feet of her for the rest of the night. It’s a game we play. At every party there is some Ms. Bitchy McBitch Bitch who is overdoing it on the appetizers. When this happens, we put out an all points bulletin to the other servers with a description of the Over Eater. “Lady in sparkly blue pantsuit, ugly shoes and big hair has had her quota of quesadillas. CUT HER OFF! AVOID PANTSUIT LADY.” And we do. And the bitch gets no more food from us for the rest of the night.
Last week, I served a party with a few celebrities. It was honoring Barbara Walters for her lifetime achievement. Apparently she has interviewed some really famous people… Liz Smith was there and she looked so fucking old. I swear to God that her face looked like a 85 year old piece of bacon that sat in a tanning bed for a couple of decades. Not pretty. Nope, not pretty at all. It was really crowded as usual and I was elbowed in the ribs by some greedy woman grabbing at a grape filled with goat cheese. I turned around to see who the fuck was that hungry and it was Connie Fucking Chung. Seriously, Connie Chung? Maury Pauvich couldn’t take you to dinner first so you didn’t have to knock the breath out of me to get a grape? I resisted the urge to tell Maury that I needed a DNA test to find out about my baby daddy. I gave his wife a grape and then I mentally cunt punched her.