The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Where Class and Crass Collide

The other night, I arrived at the prescribed address for a catering gig as requested. Like all events, I have no clue who is going to be there, or what the event is until after I arrive. That being said, over the weekend I served (not serviced) Anderson Cooper. I've also been lucky enough to squeeze Brad Pitt's bicep while moving past him in a large crowd (Yes Angelina...you may have him...but I saw him first!). But the other night was very unique.

The only information I had was the address to show up at, and that a uniform would be provided, so I didn't need to bring any special clothing. With that in mind, I wore jeans and a t-shirt. Upon arriving and showing identification to security, I walked into a gallery like space, that had been converted into cocktail lounge. Oddly enough, I knew I had seen the place before and by the end of the night, recognized it as the setting from a television show. I was sent to the kitchen to meet with the supervisor and get my assignment.

I should have known where this night was going when I looked at the other staff. Eight other men, all...how should I put this...buff...and me, sitting in the kitchen getting assignments to make appetizers until "wardrobe" was ready for us. One by one, they were taking guys back into the wardrobe area for what I assumed was a uniform fitting. I was the second to the last to be taken.

Marching me down the hall, they handed me a pair of black underwear and some black boots and informed me that I would be wearing that, and the rest of my costume would be painted on. Yes...they painted a tuxedo on my body.

Once again, most cater waiters are also actors and models. Most cater waiters have abs you can bounce quarters off of. Most cater waiters don't eat carbohydrates. I'm not your typical cater waiter...except that I also need the job.

There I was, shirtless, in underwear, painted to look like I was still wearing clothes, with my nipples giving away just how cold I was. That's COLD...NOT TURNED ON. Of course...this event is just a step for me. I'm going to make it...someday, so I took it like a champ and went in the back to gather my wits, and appetizer to pass in the crowd.

My job would be to walk down an under lit runway and walk through the audience with passed appetizers of Hearts of Palm with Saffron Aioli and Salmon Roe. Basically, vegetables served with a little beefcake.

The audience was an invitation event for a premium scotch tasting, where the primary audience members were lawyers at several law firms. If you didn't know this, the average starting salary for a corporate lawyer in this city is $170,000. These people have cash to spend. They are definitely considered "upper class"!

However, these people have also not eaten in about 30 days, as the moment I walked out onto the runway, three female lawyers walked up onto the stage and took all 30 appetizers off my plate and asked that I go back to get them more.

Like pigs at the trough, these people attacked the appetizer buffet, and when I walked out with a plate of chicken skewers, I finally understood why I was wearing so little clothing. If I had been wearing clothes...these people would have eaten the clothes off of my arms. I actually have a scratch down my back from some skanky woman who was desperate to get a cheese puff!

This is what female strippers go through. My supervisor, feeling bad that the evening was so difficult, raised our pay rates to a proper $40/hr...but even that doesn't block the image of the woman taking an entire plate of Pigs in the Blanket out of my arms and demanding that I "bring her more"!

Have some class lawyers...you can buy yourself some dinner on the way home.

Patrick - 4:55 PM -