Symmetry, it’s a waiter thing…
It was just after lunch service on Friday and I was clearing the tables recently vacated by two groups of tourists, 13 French pensioners and 11 young Chinese who insisted on having two courses even though they had to be back on their bus in 40 minutes. But we did it, because we are that good. I was tired and was beginning to regret the sausages for breakfast as they were repeating on me. Pork and apple is not a breakfast sausage. I longed for a nice sit down and a lovely cup of decaf tea. Decaf tea, that’s what my life has become. Sigh.
But I had a table of thirty to be setting before I could slump in a chair and revitalise my drooping spirits with, as one quipster put it, my old man tea.
I hauled the clean tables from one end of the room to the other and laid them out in two perfectly straight lines ready for setting. The silverware was cleaned and polished and almost sparkled as knives and forks caught the afternoon sun. The table would have to be laid as a 14 and a 16 due to the shape of the room, this never settles well with me or my waiter OCD but without a Kango hammer and a labour crew there was nothing to be done about it.
Napkins first, crisp and sharp and set on the table perfectly aligned with its counterpart on the other side of the table and the middle of the chair facing it. Placed on the table one inch from the edge. I looked up and down both tables and corrected stray napkins that may have been too close or too far from the edge. Forks next. Always to the left, mains closest to the napkin with the starter next to it. Knives next, same set up. I checked them for stains and thumb mark as I set them down using only my thumb and index finger. The lightest of touch, not easy for a fat fingered chap like myself. Each perfectly aligned, straight like soldiers on parade waiting for their instructions. I could see the pulses of sweat on my brow in the knives. Salt and pepper pots next, the signs of previous use was rubbed away and I set them at advantageous points throughout each table. We cant have guests stretching to over season their food now can we?!
Cutlery, napkins, condiments, all set, all perfect and most importantly all obeying the rules of symmetry. So much symmetry, it was, in a word, table laying at an anal level. As it should be, and it was perfect. But I still had my nemesis to deal with, wineglasses. You could polish wine glasses in a vacuum and somehow there would be a thumb print or teeny tiny hint of luscious red lipstick. But one by one I checked and rubbed and inspected again each of the thirty required glasses. Each one pointed to the window and inspected with an inquisitive almost forensic passion. With the glasses positioned at the top of each main knife I stood back and simply, smiled. This was a thing of beauty, fit for a queen or a pope or even somebody important.
The glasses glistened, the cutlery sparkled, the cows that were skinned for the leather seats could rest easy in cow heaven knowing that their hides hadn’t gone to waste. The lush and comfy seats formed a protective barrier against the tables. And like the cutlery, napkins and glasses their lines were crisp and straight. The sweat and crumbs of the previous occupants had ben removed, they were ready for new bottoms.
This was symmetry at an architectural level. The only bend in the whole room was the smile on my face…
I was so busy smiling and awarding myself imaginary gongs, “The order of the Grande Waiter for services to table setting”, that I didn’t hear the phone ringing or the subsequent calling of Waiter Chum 1.5 or even her laboured and nervous footsteps as she brought me news. News most horrid.
“They’ve cancelled, the birthday girl is sick or something….you wanna get KFC for lunch?”
I was fucking gutted.
I truly hope she has kidney stones.
In the five minute tantrum that followed I knocked over a salt pot, a wine glass (it broke and I cut my hand) and even one of the precious leather chairs got kicked.All that lovely symmetry and effort for naught. I threw cutlery at tables for the rest of the night such was my mood after that snub.
Meh. The KFC Boneless Bucket Meal helped for a bit but I ended up with heartburn.
I hate people.
Not you though, you’re okay. And the nice people at The New York Times food section who saw fit to add WDF onto their blogroll. Win…..
34 Comments → “Symmetry, it’s a waiter thing…”
the BITCH!
but more importantly, Y’ALL ARE IN THE NEW YORK TIMES, sugar!!! well done, sir, swell done! by the by, i could see that glorious table ! *sigh* one day, one day, i’ll sit in y’all’s section! and dine like royalty!
xoxoxoxo
you will….someday…
Well done philly
what? no smart remark? no mention of my generous gut?
heh….cheers joe…
Hey just found this place from the Atown news. It’s funny stuff. I used to be a waitress and feel your pain. How are tips these days? I used to hate cancellations, unless it was late night of course.
tips eh, up, down and hard to predict….just like always…cheers clare
Wow. Someone’s going to hunt you down now. Some crackpot. Possibly on crack and pot.
On a positive note, who needs a blog award?
And who lays your table at home? Does it make you twitch?
I do, I still do…
set the table? you mean lay out the daily mirrors on their laps? they can do that themselves…
your description of your OCD-waiterness reminds me of a young soldier, proudly preparing for inspection by the crusty, profanity-spewing first sergeant. nicely done, even if the war never started, you were ready…
NYT? SWEEEEEEEET Action! Will you still visit us little people when you’re even more famous?
no…
heh
just you
You made it on to the same list as Anthony Bourdain truly impressed!
you think he’s impressed? ha!
Congratulations!
Shit one about the tables though
people=shit…fact
pfft b’day girl sick the others weren’t! but think, the table didn’t get ruined by mucky guests.
but it never reached it’s destiny…
“fit for a queen or a pope or even somebody important” hahahaha, I belly laughed.
Congratulations on getting in the New York Times.
cheers Andino….every little bit helps
Awesome!
In the big time now, Manuel.
still no money….cheers Medbh
Not only that, but how much tip money went up in smoke with that cancellation? I hope the wings made up for it. I doubt they did, but still
I had most of the money spent too before they cancelled…bastards!
If it’s any consolation, you built me the most lovely mental image of a perfectly-set table….even without the diagram. And many happies on the NY Times news!
that helps…..sort of…heh
Wow, the New York Times eh? With the OCD table setting I can understand having a tant, and yes the other guests should have at least popped in for some Spicy Tart.
Oh, and CSI:MANUEL, I’d watch it.
ha, I’ve never watched that series but maybe they do need a waiter division to spice things up…
Woot Manuel, total congratulations to you! No better man.
awh, shucks cheers FMC…
Congratulations! Before your rates become beyond my means, can I book you for table setting at my house at Christmas and New Year?
Perhaps you can settle an argument my Dad and I have every year, when placing knives on a table setting does the cutting edge face toward or away from the plate?
cheers Ellie…I’ll find you a table…somewhere…blade in, towards the plate…at all times….
No no no! I don’t want to book a table, I want to book you to set MY table. I need you even more than I thought since you just proved my Da right. Hmpph!
hahahahaha…you’ll have to pay taxi to and from and bacon sandwich on arrival…I’ll waive my fee….never question the da, the da knows everything…arf
Deal! I’ll even throw in some black pudding and a big mug of Nambarrie if you set the knives the “wrong” way and I don’t have to admit to the Da that he’s right!
This is probably why you should get a deposit from large parties like that, so that in the event they do cancel, all the effort was not for nought…