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.

Monday, December 17, 2007

War Ain't Pretty!

Lately, I've been working a lot. A ridiculous amount of hours because this is the catering season. Unfortunately, it's left me little time to write, and with half the confidentiality agreements I've signed, I've not been able to speak about most of the events. And there have been many events. Like this past Saturday night.

Saturday, I worked a birthday party for Donnie Deutsch (I know...I had never heard of him either. Nothing is worse than a second rate celebrity). Now when I say birthday party, what I should really say is birthday extravaganza from hell. He hired the Pussycat Dolls to give a performance.

I arrived at the event venue at 12:00, at which point I was assigned a bar to set up. The details of the event were that it was a 50th birthday party that would have 300 guests. I get that. I personally know 300 people I'd invite to my 50th birthday party. Hell...all six of you who read this site would be invited.

I'm digressing. Now for those of you who have never catered before (be thankful), it takes an enormous amount of time to set up an event for 300 people. The initial set up for the event begins 30+ hours before the start. By the time I had arrived, the tables had been already covered in cloth and the bars were built. My first job was to put glassware, alcohol, and mixing product on each bar. For the 12' bar I was assigned to, it takes about 2.5 hours. The staff works together to help each other, but at 4:00 the bombs were dropped.

All the staff was asked to line up for a meeting. We lined up (like the good worker bees we were) and an event producer walked down the line. As she approached the majority of us, she said the word "no". To those that she said "yes", they were asked to follow her down to the 5th floor lounge. Out of the 100 staff, she chose two people to follow her, and the rest were told the news.

Every once in a while, I get the compliment "You're an 8. You can date two up, or two down...but that's it." And technically, I should be happy with that. It means I'm better looking than 80% of the male population. The problem is that I'm a single gay man, and a perfectionist. I want to be a 10. Anything less is failure.

The gay culture is incredibly looks focused, and there is a pressure to be fit, muscular, attractive at all times that's easy to succumb to. I've got a bad enough body image that I don't need to enforce it.

The event producer had hired models to work all front positions. Bar staff would premix the drinks and put them in pitchers, but the models would pour the drinks in glasses. Coat check staff would work behind screens, but models would take and deliver the coats. Our staff would work behind the buffets, but the models would explain to guests what we were serving. And with that news, the models (all 80 of them and our two staff members) arrived for the meeting.

War had been declared...and it ain't pretty.

An insulting slew of size zeros and chiseled pecs walked in front of us and took seats in the chairs we had set up. My fellow staff members glared at the back of their heads as basic information about the night was given to all of us. I'm not proud to admit this...but I hated them on site. My coworkers felt the same.

Now as cater waiters, we get the benefit of a staff meal on each event. It's the leftovers after the guests have eaten. On long events, the staff are given peanut and butter jelly sandwiches (one per staff member) to help curb your appetite. One of the male models had 8 PB&J sandwiches and when confronted by one of the sandwich owners (our names are on them), he said "I've got to eat enough protein to maintain my muscle mass". I'll give the fucker some protein.

The night grated on. Popular moments included:
A party planner telling a model that the appetizers on her tray would disappear a lot faster if she actually walked around and offered them to the guests as opposed to standing there watching the show.

A model complaining that she hadn't eaten for a whole 4 hours to a certain particular buffet captain who hasn't eaten solid food in nearly 18 months. That this said captain let her eat raw oysters that had been sitting under hot lighting for over two hours without any ice was a complete mistake. He had told her that the oysters should go in the trash.


As I look back on the next day, I wondered why I and my coworkers all hated them so much. Was it because they were beautiful? Maybe a little. Personally, I think it had more to do with the fact that they were being paid $45 an hour for the things we do at 1/2 the pay.

Keep your looks as long as you can bitches...because karma is going to catch up...and when it does...you won't have any job skills.

Patrick - 4:00 PM -

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