Oh. Good. LORD00:12 Feb 13 2011
Times Read: 859
I know- it's already this weekend, and I am just now getting to writing about last weekend. So shoot me.
Saturday:
I worked a *say it with me* wedding.
230 people
ALL Korean
Up here, that means I am gonna be pouring a shitload of juice and pop, and not making any money. Period.
I get to work, get to the basement, and load up all the stuff needed to stock both bars.
I get upstairs, only to discover that I am the only bartender.
For 230 people. Seriously? Well, they are Asian, so I probably won't be that busy (this from the Asian girl who is my supervisor-see, I'm not prejudiced, I'm just repeating what members of their own race say about themselves)
So, I got all set up, and put the rest of the stock in the storage room. They are outside, milling around, noshing on the appetizer platters and drinking punch.
The wedding coordinator asks if I'm ready to go, which of course is followed quickly by my usual retort:
"I was born ready"
So here we go, opening the doors.
And there I stood for about 20 minutes. Then all of a sudden, it's like it's pouring Koreans. They are heading through the door like there is a hole somewhere, and they are immediately heading for seats, like they're afraid if they are the last one in, they won't get a seat at a table or something.
Then it gets real quiet, and you can hear the muscles in their necks creak as they flip their heads around to look where I am standing, all alone, at the bar.
And my time for standing still is officially OVER.
I have worked some hard gigs in my life- but let me tell you- I looked down, and I didn't look up again till they headed for the buffet- I was slinging beer, mixed drinks and wine like there was no tomorrow, and all I got from the supervisor was "wow, I didn't know you could move that fast!"
Stick around girlie- you ain't seen nothing yet.
So I got to take a breather, restock and regroup during dinner, and once the speeches were over, the old folks left.
For those of you who haven't seen it yet, take a look in Daire's journal at the cartoon about the ages of Asian women- I went through every damn one of them.
And I said so.
The old folks left, and I was left with the core group of drinkers, about 36 20-somethings who are now dead set on hammering the groom.
And with my help, they succeeded admirably.
The bar was supposed to close at 12 am. By 11 pm, I was steady telling the supervisor who was closing that I thought it would be prudent to close the bar at that point. They weren't drinking mixed drinks, or just beer or anything simple.
NOOOOOOO.....
I went through almost 200 shots of straight vodka.
2 bottles of Jagermeister- some as bombs, most not.
a full bottle of Sauza tequila- oy....
and at least one guy was drinking doubles of crown.
I made a shitload of lemon drops, and when I ran out of lemons, I made LIME shots.
Egads....drunk Koreans, or drunk Asians period are the funniest thing in the world. They can't dance decent under normal circumstances, and these were far from normal circumstances...
So true to form, when the young supervisors refuse to listen to the aged bartender when she tells them we need to cut everybody off, shit happens.
The guys and the groom, who could not have performed his newly acquired husbandly duties if his life depended on it, stumbled out into the hall, stumbled into the picture they had set up for the guests to sign, and knocked everything over-
The picture frame broke
The glass broke
The candle holders (which thankfully had already gone out) broke
Hell, given another body or two, the table would have broke.
I just stood there and said "I told you so" to the supervisor. And then I cleaned up and went home.
A simple "They won't drink that much" Korean wedding turned into a 10 1/2 hour shift for me.
By the time I got home, ate, took a shower, and got to bed, it was 4 am-
And I had to be back at work at 4 pm that afternoon for Sunday's wedding.
Ah, Sunday. A day of peace and communion.
A day to relax and be one with the world around you.
Fuck that.
This wedding. *sigh*
The groom had started his career as a sous chef working at Westwood. So he had fans and family there still.
He also had people who would have cheerfully kicked his ass down the stairs, given the opportunity...lol
And he's Greek.
So we already have an ethnic wedding.
Then he decided he had to come in and show our chef, who is world class, what he wanted cooked for his plated dinner, and how to cook it. The menu read like an entry in Gourmet magazine. Roast pork belly, cabbage, and scalloped potatos.
I took one look at the plates as they went past the bar, and told the kids all those high falutin names all meant the same thing-
The guests were eatin' fat back and taters.
Period.
Hence the whole kicking his arrogant ass down he stairs...
I got upstairs with the stock for the bars, and Diane (my bud) and Chef are steady pouring water over an ice sculpture that had just been set up next to my bar. I looked at Diane, and asked what the problem was.
Shhhh....listen.....
You know that crackling noise ice cubes make when they crack in your drink?
Un hunh.....same noise is coming from this 5 foot monstrosity.....
They managed to keep it together, even with the assorted rugrats running up and down the head table level, and pushing at the damn thing and whatnot. But I seriously thought it was going to keel over on top of one of their punkin heads if they didn't quit.
But my big problem?
Kid comes running up, climbs up the level to the table with the sculpture, grabs hold of the light illuminating the thing in blue, and STICKS HIS HAND INTO THE WATER.
And what does MOM do?
She tells him to hold still while she takes his damn picture.
I lost it.
I walked up to the table, pulled his hand away from the light, the other out of the water, and plopped him down on the floor. He threw a fit, and then his mom chimed in. I promptly looked her in the eye and said:
"Ya know, you might not give a damn if he gets electrocuted or not, but as a mother and an employee at this establishment, I DO. If you cannot control your child, perhaps you should give him to someone who can."
I then turned to the kid and told him he could not touch the light and water at the same time because it would shock him really bad, and would hurt. So please not to play with the ice statue. He looks at me, says ok, and heads out. Never saw him again.
Mom, on the other hand, is sulking because I screwed up her perfect facebook picture.
REALLY?
*sigh*
Some people's kids...I mean really....
And on top of that, the groom had brought in 3 bottles of ouzo, and 3 bottles of Metaxa brandy, which he would tell me when to start pouring.
His idea of giving me a heads up?
"SET UP 12 SHOTS RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW"
Sure thing boss......
And off they go.
Need I add that one of this guy's groomsmen was one of our own cooks. He started drinking and tweeting about 9 am. He. Was. HAMMERED.
He comes staggering over to my bar, I hook him up with whatever he wanted, and suddenly he is standing behind the bar, trying to stick his hands into the pockets of my apron. Suffice it to say, I am getting a little flustered at this, trying to keep his hands off my privates. I swatted him a couple of times, told him to back the fuck up, and he keeps saying he wants to give me something.
I'M SURE YOU ARE, but DAMMIT.
Turns out he is cramming $15 into my pockets.
O-o
besides the guy who was watching him do it and tipped me another $10, that was the only money I made.
Ruann, the other bartender? One of the bains of my existance up there cause he is more concerned with getting his money and getting out than doing his job?
He walks out with $5.
heeheehee
Did I mention that this one was hosted? Yeah, well.....
Then, about 11 pm, as I am starting to wind down, and hopefully be getting away from the drunks soon, I look up to see this guy standing at my bar.
"Hi can I help you?"
"Hi, I'm Dave"
"Nice to meet you- what can I get for you?"
"I'm here to set up the late night buffet."
"Ok, hang on I'll get the supervisor."
See, we don't generally take too kindly to people bringing in outside food, but it happens, can't do much about it except pray there are no problems, and go on.
Here I am working this high class Greek wedding, the menu was over the top, the dessert buffet was the biggest and most elaborate I have ever seen, and what happens now?
Darrel goes out to help this guy set up a late night buffet from......
*drum roll please*
MCDONALDS.
I shit you not, there are fries, cheeseburgers, and hamburgers EVERYWHERE. As soon as the serving kids caught the scent, ever' last one of them hit high gear in 3. Seconds. FLAT.
Mario, the chef who was in the wedding, made sure to bring a broad selection back into the kitchen for us. As soon as I reached in for a cheeseburger, somebody growled at me.
I mean, wow.
Again, another 10 hour shift, but at least I didn't have to stop on the way home for my fix this time...lol
So now you know. No matter what class place you work, no matter how much money they spend, you can ALWAYS guarantee that there will be stupidity of some sort when you add alcohol.
And me. Don't forget to add in MY contribution to the idiocy...lol
COMMENTS
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BubbleGumClaudia
21:54 Feb 26 2011
LMAO!!! Call it karma????
I wanna be a bartender TRAIN ME!
CarnelianMyst
22:51 Feb 26 2011
cms sound so teeny, though. When you start talking about FEET....now that's something. :P
Vampirewitch39
22:58 Feb 27 2011
*smerks ... and runs*