Mother's Day 2007: We have on the books more than 1100 people coming to the buffet at the club where I work (whose identity will not be revealed to protect the not-so-innocent). The day before, our amazing captain, who is in charge of setting up the tables for such huge seatings (and who is a genius, if you ask me. It is practically impossible to make every one of these persnickety people happy, but he does pretty well at it) heard news that his mother passed away very unexpectedly. His mother lives in Mexico. So he left the club, of course, and left our other amazing Captain (who will call Captain Peru) in charge. Captain Peru doesn't really do the table set-ups. He helps the servers with tickets, charges, food running, etc. He's like the trouble-shooter on the floor. Needless to say, when the guests started arriving in legions, we had a few mix-ups, but I can really count them on one hand. Captain Peru did pretty well, I think, and on Mother's Day he had the look of a sweaty runner, hair out place, tie all askew, breathless. He deserves a medal and a huge bonus.
But of course, we had several unhappy guests (who will never be happy under any circumstances. Ever). But there was one lady in particular who I thought was nice until Sunday. Her name is Mrs. G. Mrs. G arrived early for the second seating with a bunch of flowers to put on the table. And do keep in mind that these tables are already set with beautifully cut floral arrangements. I told Mrs. G about the passing on of Captain #1's mother because I thought she would like to know. And this is verbatim:
Me: "Mrs. G, you should know that Captain #1's mother passed away very unexpectedly yesterday."
Mrs.G: "Oh dear. Well, I hope I have a nice table."
The end.
