Today I did something I swore I never would, I went back to hospitality.
I left the world of restaurants, bars and hotels last year and never looked back. On Monday afternoon I got a call from a company I worked for years ago and they asked me if I would be interested in “helping out” in Punchestown for the race festival as they were having trouble getting reliable people.
I turned down the offer of a supervisory role as it involves too much hassle for the pay, so I took the bog standard bar man job for the five days for a few (relatively) easy quid in an other wise unemployed time.
Today I was reminded why I left hospitality and today I was thankful to the Gods and Tom Cruise himself that I turned down the offer to run the bar I was working in.
In the panoramic restaurant overlooking the grandstand, were two companies booked in for a private function. The champagne reception was all ready to go and the room looked immaculate, the staff were fed and watered and eager to get stuck in.
The very first guest arrived.
The very first one.
I want to stress that because I don’t want to seem like I was moaning after a long day.
The very first guest arrived in and looked every member of staff up and down before reaching me, so with my chirpiest and most annoying introduction I interrupted her dirty look at me:
“Good afternoon, and welcome to Punchestown. Can I offer you a glass of champagne?”
“I’m not paying for champagne”
“It’s an open (free) bar, madam. You’ll be charged nothing for food or beverage here today”
“I have money”
“I’m sure you do. Champagne?”
“No, I don’t like champagne.”
“No problem, can I get you anything else?”
She then proceeded to scan the every fridge, shelf and counter top in the bar for what must have been at least two minutes without uttering a sound.
Then she spoke:
“I’ll have a bottle of Heineken”
“Sorry, we don’t have bottles of Heineken”
“That’s typical, the one thing I want and you don’t have it”
“I’m sorry madam, but maybe you’d like to choose from what we do have?”
“Maybe you’d like to trot off and find me enough Heineken to last me the day drown in? There’s a good lad.”
“I’m sorry madam, the sponsor of this suite gave us a list of drinks to supply the bar with and Heineken wasn’t one of them.”
“I find that hard to believe, you just can’t do your job properly and here I am, a person calling you on it and all you can do is stutter out some crappy excuses”
It was at about this precise moment that I remembered the luxury that all ordinary serving staff have, the one that used to piss me off as a manager leaving to the management. I excused myself and called my supervisor, explained the story and stood back to watch what unfolded.
I was called every name under the sun, the supervisor was called every name under the sun, the company was called every name under the sun until she was so red in the face I thought she was actually the beacon light for the VIP chopper pad.
Long, very long story short and she was still giving out when the rest of the guests (179) had shown up. The CEO of the company then came in expecting to see happy workers on a day out and get some pats on the back for a job well done. Instead he was greeted by a shouting employee, an irritated supervisor, a bored general manager and a smirking barman.
What he said nearly made me cum right there:
“Sharon, what the hell are you playing at? Go and sit down or I’ll have security take you off the premises and I’ll suspend you without pay. Now apologise to everyone you shouted at”
She did, she even apologised to me. I did have to “Ahem” to get it, but I got it. Turns out that she was due for a promotion but due to the recession a hold to all promotions and pay rises had been stopped. She had been threatening to embarrass the company for weeks, but ended up making a tit of herself.
Anyway, the day was pretty much uneventful after that. Until. There’s always an until.
Until she came to the bar all full of confidence (free chardonnay) and demanded a clean wine glass and a spoon.
I gave her what she wanted and she went on to clink the spoon off the glass to get attention for a very important announcement. The room hushed in the way only David Brent could muster.
She announced through slurred words and hiccups that she had indeed been sacked and was going to be suing the company. No one cared, but she cared not. Triumphant in her own sozzled mind, she turned to me and dropped the glass on the floor obviously smashing it.
“Be a good lad and sweep that up”
She staggered away and left behind a group of people that didn’t give a shit.
Except me.
I know she’s a general undiscriminating cunt, but she’s the kind of cunt that drove me out of the business.
Having gone back to it for just one day I cannot understand how I did it for 15 years. But I know one thing for certain, when the last glass is polished on Saturday night I won’t be going back to it.
I left for a reason and I was right.
