Bad Caterer

Vignettes about a young man who prepares for life after college through catering events.

One

Dressed completely in black, he silently scanned for something to work on.  The bare, thick, white linens on the tables were all completely uniform; equally away from the floor and even with the chairs. The crease on top of each table all ran along the same way, north to south, even at the tables no one would sit at.  The silverware was arranged in an intricate, calculated pattern, completely identical at every table.  A salt and pepper shaker was also intentionally placed at the same position on every table. Silent details usually unnoticed, but perceived are important to him.  The subtle aroma of fresh flowers, the dim light from the flames on short candles, altogether the room was truly charming.  As nice as everything would look when all preparation was complete, human nature would prevail, forgiving any imperfections or blowing them out of proportion.  Come what may, he found nothing to work on.

As the guests entered the room, the caterer pulled his black tie from his bag and found it completely wrinkled, with the bottom dog eared, mocking him.  There probably were no spare ties and he would not embarrass himself by asking for one.  Five seconds with a hot iron he contemplated.  He took his wrinkled tie into the bathroom, where he confirmed there was no hot iron, but there was some water.  Only because he couldn’t think of anything else to do, he ran the tie under the running faucet until it was completely drenched.  It was now darker and wet, but unwrinkled!  To his delight it looked perfect, wet-not dripping- perfect. 

The caterer is a master of improvisation and spontaneity; he can create something unique, special, or independent out of the ordinary; always conscious of the delicate balance between elegant and distressed, and always erring on the side of caution. Once, when a sophisticated young lady complained about being served a stale muffin, he casually explained that it was a biscotti and should be dipped in coffee.  Her embarrassed smiled convinced him he said the right thing.  He had converted so many garages, living rooms, warehouses, patios, and empty rooms into inspiring spaces for disposable celebrations.  The caterer can let you know how you are supposed to feel by the setting of things in a room.  Brighter, louder, spicier, larger, warmer…, he could make infinite adjustments to get it right.  One of the caterer’s best tricks is making space; hiding clutter unobtrusively, then putting it back at the end of the night.

The caterer worked that evening as he had so many other times before, quickly and quietly.  Surrounded by guests who had planned excitedly to be at this event for months, he was surrounded by people at their best.  They wore the outfit they had planned to, the perfume, the details to make them pop.  In three short hours they would retire away, and an hour or two later he and his team would be finished cleaning up, leaving the place exactly as it was when they had arrived.

Working as a caterer was first introduced to him the summer he graduated from high school.  A summer job, it was easy and unimportant.  He filled out an application, interviewed with an Australian woman and was reassured he would do fine.  He was instructed to call in periodically for work.  The office would call him if they needed him.   He was eighteen.  He bought, like it was recommended to him, a tuxedo at a resale shop; it was $35.  It was a thick suit, with no tears or stains.  It looked brand new.  He correctly imagined that his work was always done in dim lighting so he could get away with the ugliness of the tuxedo.  At least he would match the other caterers, only the captains wore business suits or dresses.  On the bus ride home from the resale shop he thought about how he would use this suit far greater than its original owner, far greater.   Often after working, the caterer would often join his friends very late on a Friday, still dressed completely in black he fit right in!  He once completely changed out of a tuxedo while driving on the highway!  It was cold and dangerous but he knew it was possible, and to drive for a moment in his underwear…

 His very first event, years ago, was a wedding at the museum.  He had visited the museum many times and was very familiar with it.  He had gone with his family, on school field trips, with the boy scouts, and even on a date.  He had never seen the museum this way.  It was ornate and glowing.   Caterers, all dressed the same, hurriedly crossed the main hall back and forth, black pants white shirts and black jackets.  He walked past a caterer setting up a bar in front of a display case holding a large, stuffed tiger.  He met his captain, who glanced at his uniform and put him to work immediately.  He helped place ten chairs around twenty tables.  A different team delivered a rack of glassware, and then a bag of forks, knives, and spoons.  He remembered the orchestra of tasks being worked on.  When he finished with the chairs, without asking or checking, he helped with the forks.  As soon as he finished he was handed a tray of champagne flutes and told to get ready.  He had never held a tray of drinks.  This heavy silver tray was so slippery.  He breathed deeply and nervously smiled as guests came by and helped themselves, relieving his load each time.

The caterer discovered that this kind of work was fun and exciting. It paid well over the minimum wage as well.  It was great how instead of going out and spending money,  he work on  a Friday or Saturday, or both at times, and receive a nice check for it.  Sometimes, however, he didn’t even look at his checks.  He didn’t double check for accuracy, or how much tip, if any was included.  He enjoyed working at these events. 

It is surprising how much the caterer had learned about dinner-service by the variety of meals he had helped prepare and serve.  After only a few years assisting chefs and event managers he had learned a great deal.  He knew that béarnaise was terrible, that you could make a chicken ceviche, and kumquats, star-fruit, and capers were as common to him as peanuts and gourmet pretzels.  He also began to recognize all kinds of patterns at the events he worked.  Like how tables are always set similarly, the meat is placed on a plate at 6 o clock, red, white, and water goblets often formed a triangle above the forks on the right.   It is endless: napkin folds, bread and butter etiquette, French coffee service, plated, not plated.  At every event the captains expected these to be second nature to all caterers.  Chargers, highboys, ties, he even knew several types of rolls by name.  This familiarity came with simple exposure and he absorbed everything.  He knew well about service. The caterer had much experience and so the company gladly put him on as many shifts as he was willing to take.  He even worked for a few other catering companies; they all loved to give him work.  A few times he helped in the morning for one company and then joined another for a completely different job in the evening.  Many of his coworkers worked the same way. 

            The more he worked the more he learned; about catering, about himself, about human nature, and professionalism.  He always left inspired by what he had seen.  He was recognized by his employers as a hard worker who didn’t need to be supervised, and so he was given priority for staffing assignments.  He subconsciously imitated the successful clients he worked for, demanding personal excellence.  As he gained more experience he began to be assigned to earlier start times.  He would come to arrive as early as with the delivery trucks full of supplies for the party.  He then observed other caterers arriving later in the evening when the room was just about ready, like he had earlier at the museum event. So many events: grand opening receptions, corporate events, fundraisers, weddings, auctions, exuberant Christmas,  Halloween, and birthday parties, receptions in museums, warehouses, boats, lobbies, galleries, skyscrapers, and boutiques.  Sometimes it was just a really nice house.  He had even worked Thanksgivings, New Year eves and a few Easters.  It was a very humbling job, catering, serving.  He didn’t take a client’s event for granted.  They relied on his service to bring closure to their success, or whatever it was.  Sometimes they were helping launch a new product, or raising money.

The caterer most appreciated learning at work.  So much learning occurred while working.  He learned about management and organizational, about dealing with contractors, dealing with security, dealing with drunk, but important guests.  Logistics is also a huge part of catering.   Know what to do, what to do next, and what to get ready to do after that is crucial.  Beverages, for example, need at least 30 minutes to chill; a buffet table can be completely set up by one caterer in 20 minutes.  And food reheats in 20 minutes or cooks in more or less 30.  He was the sole caterer at an art gallery some time ago, where his experience of timing and logistics came into to play.  He had arrived, in uniform, at 5 and guests would arrive by 7.  The cashier from the gallery told him he could sit and wait; instead he chose to observe the art pieces. Catering had exposed him to all kinds of art, in museums, businesses and people’s homes.  He had seen and over heard how to appreciate art, what to look for, about the materials and other tiny details he was sure he would not know about or probably even notice if not for catering.  His favorite was a family who framed their kid’s art, right at the entrance of the house.  What a gift, he thought to himself, to be able to make art out of nothing.  Besides the paintings there were sculptures, the type that allow one’s imagination to determine what they are or how they are supposed to make you feel. They were completely relative.  Anyone with time and materials could create their own art.   At 5:30 he arranged the buffet table expecting the owner to check in at any second, and he did; he phoned in to tell him he was running late.  The caterer assured him everything would be fine.  He took out all of the food from the refrigerator and asked the clerk to get him some glasses, which she did; plastic, disposable ones.    The first guest arrived 15 minutes early, which a good caterer is always prepared for, and so he had left caprice out ready on an old, ceramic plate from the gallery.   He saw the ingredients left ready in the refrigerator and put them together. The buffet table was set, candles lit, now the problem was drinks, he only had the ice in the freezer.  With more guests arrived, the gallery was buzzing; everyone accepted that the owner was on his way.  They ate the hors d'oeuvres and drank tap water in plastic cups from a pitcher with small pieces of lemon; he could have used zucchini if he had to.  Rather than announcing there were no mixed drinks, he went into the owner’s private liquor stash, or what remained of it.  He poured less than a half bottle of vodka into a pitcher, added sugar, white wine, and some yellow Gatorade.  Even if it tasted bad, it looked really neat.  Maybe the guests would think it was relative, like the art.  Someone would drink it, he reassured himself.  The owner finally arrived, his eyes were red, he had been crying.  The caterer didn’t complain or even ask what had happened, he served him a drink.

Besides the exciting locations and ideas he was exposed to, besides the outrageous decorations, food, and celebrations, he met really inspiring people.  Sometimes he was inspired by arrogant, sloppy guests, as nice as they seemed they could be so rude.  He would never be so shallow or materialistic.  And then there were the hard working, intelligent, inspirational individuals who earned a fortune, and kindly rewarded friends and acquaintances.   These guys greeted you well, treated you well, and tipped you well at the end of the night, as long as there were no major mistakes.  But the money was just a bonus, sometimes, he thought, he’d work some of these events for free.  He had brought home filet mignon, $60 port in a pop bottle, chocolates, gift bags meant for guests, pastries, and decorations.  Vicarious things he normally would never have known about.   Above all, his favorite souvenir was a photograph he took of a painting by Pablo Picasso that had not been publicly viewed for decades.  He worked all night under this amazing piece of art, he breathed by it, marveling before it, everyone did.

The caterer never anticipated that this work would lead to habits, good and bad.  Bad like the time he refused to pay $8 for a beer.  Having just finished working an event downtown he decided to stop in a bar.  Dressed in all black, he again, fit right in with the regulars who went out of their way, or bought just the right outfit to be at the bar.  He just wanted to sit down and really appreciate a beautiful night out.  Like usual, the caterers from his company took off as soon as they were released.  $8 for a beer was too much; he was not even meeting friends.  Contemplating his options, outside on the patio, he noticed two deserted glasses of beer with a sip left in each and a fly in one.  He poured the one remaining sip into the glass with the fly.  Now the glass apparently had a good sip left.  He demanded a fresh glass from the bartender who thought the drowned fly was funny, refusing his two-dollar tip.

Earlier this day he had started early in a t-shirt and jeans at the shop.  It was quiet as he loaded the truck, looking over an inventory sheet while the kitchen staff worked on the food.  They offered him breakfast.  As he drove the heavy truck he prepared himself for what was to come; he would help unload the truck at the site, work a four or five hour party, clean up, break-down, throw out trash, reload the truck, drive it back to the shop and then return the next morning to unload the truck, take inventory and put things back. Working this long was not new to him, nor was it horrible.   He once worked once on a ship from 5-11pm.   When the ship docked his captain informed him that her caterer for the next trip, which was in an hour, was not going to show.  He was really tired, but he could not refuse.  So he started all over at 11 pm, with linens, glassware, icing, and continued, finally cleaning up again, throwing out trash and loading the truck until after 3 in the morning, getting home around four.   

  Once arrived, he began unloading the truck.  Everything is unloaded into the center of the room except for the ice.  He and a partner carried bags of ice in a tub, a Lucite, onto the sidewalk where it could melt neatly.  There is no set procedure for unloading ice; only that is done neatly.  There are no courses or seminars one can take to further improve their catering.  When you are just a server, work is the classroom.   Every time he orders a beer, for himself, he observes how it is handed to him.  Does the server hold the neck, the bottom, or middle?  Holding a bottle by the middle warms it, holding it in the middle allows the drinker to take it from the neck where it is should be held against a label there.   Once, as a guest at a wedding he watched the waitress at his table struggle with a fork to get ice cubes in a water goblet from a pitcher.  She had been tipping it forward but the ice cubes accumulate at the tip of the pitcher and only water pours out.  He shouted “you’re doing it wrong!”  She handed him the pitcher and he turned it on its side and started to pour, the waitress panicked, it looks and feels as if it’s going to spill, she reached for the pitcher, he pulled away and smoothly dumped a perfect combination of water and ice into the goblet.  She smiled and thanked him silently. He watched her pour that way at her next table.

As soon as it was off the truck the ice needed to be delivered to the bars, five of them.  The bartenders are a different type of caterer.  They usually are dressed the same, but certainly work differently, and he had found this to be true over and over again.  Their supplies were brought to them as they sheepishly arranged their glasses on the bars.  They work quietly, appreciating their desired position and knowing how replaceable they are.  Surprisingly their position is earned.  They have to be good looking, approachable, with a loud personality, and trusted.  If they ever don’t know a drink recipe, they only have to ask “how would you like that?”  As the ice was dropped off, the bartender tried to be friendly and rolled his eyes as if to say “more work!?”   The caterer was sure it was just a bad tradition, supplies being brought to them, while everyone else got their own.  Captains can always often assign idle caterers to help the bartenders. 

Next, the tables were rolled into position, they still needed to be set up, dressed, and set, for 300 guests.  The chairs had to be individually removed from the slips they were delivered in and placed appropriately at each table. The slips then were neatly packed away for later when they would have to be put back on the chairs.  For the next half hour he cut 100 limes in half, long ways, then each half into six wedges.  He smiled as he delivered it to the bartender.  “Can you help this bar set up?”  It was so frustrating to him that the easiest position on the floor was incomplete.  So he began a new task, the only one in his experience as a caterer he would detest; uncorking wine bottles.  It was bad because the bottles were cold, wet, and the top where you applied leverage with the wine-key was brittle.  100 bottles while the bartender arranged his polished glassware. 

The floor supervisor called everyone together and briefed.  They were each handed an index card.  The caterer’s read “server” and under it “break down.”  For the next three hours he would line up and pick up hot-hot plates and carry them to a table on the floor. Perhaps only the staffing manager was aware that he would work at least thirteen hours today. Then he would have to collect dishes from the tables and take them to the breakdown area, where they are each scraped clean, and then put away in the case they were delivered in.  Later on, as the guests no longer required so much attention, the caterers could focus on the room.  They could clear tables, break down the bars, load the truck.  The kitchen was already packed away, like a circus leaving town.  The caterers were gradually dismissed, as now less of them were needed.  The caterer knew he was on until the end.   When he returned from a trip to the truck he noticed there were only six of them left.  Only the caterers are paid hourly, the staffing manager, captains, and floor supervisor are paid by event and so they were eager to finish quickly.  In a few minutes only the six caterers and the one captain would be all that remained of the catering company.  They would be responsible for dealing with the client, guests, and the venue staff.  They would have to load everything into the truck, clean everything, put tables and chairs back and finally drive the truck back to the shop.  The caterers were also desperate to finish, it was a long night.

When he had called earlier that week to replenish his schedule he was immediately disappointed not to hear the staffing manager he had worked with for so long. The new voice on the phone informed him, “She said she needed to get a real job”, of his old friend.   Even though they didn’t talk outside of work, or had never even shared a cigarette break, he considered the staffing manager a friend missed her.  He only had her work number, calling it now would only lead to more work, but was really struck by the notion of her search for a real job.  He felt as a second-class friend, realizing the whole time that she thought he had a less than a real job.  Now he would have to demonstrate to the new girl that he was excellent at this less than real work, but she surprised him by mentioning him the old staffing manager had recommended him.  He signed up for nine events for the next two weeks, and wrote instructions for each in his notebook: the start times, addresses, and uniform; black shirt, black pants, white shirt, black tie, full tux...  Even though it seemed overwhelming, he knew they would occur one at a time, and then he would call again, and work until it became cold out and slowed again.  The steady work was mesmerizing. 

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think, no need to sugar coat

Reviews

[Faith]

Minus sugar, I was absorbed into a new world of catering. This is one trade I can say I do not know much about at all. Yet, you were able to be interesting and informative, while forming the world the reader would be involved in.
Please write more and allow me to see!
Yes, I copied and pasted twice, but will try again...

[daniel0913]

It is a well written story with minor grammatical errors any amateur can make. I read this piece three times and fully examined and analyzed the text, and I still ask myself, What is the point? So my question to you is, What is the point? I'm assuming this is only a small excerpt of the full story, right? I would like to read the rest. Only then will I know if I wasted my time.

No, I am not a jerk. I am critic.

I really like your writing style. I agree with some of the other comments below as I felt like it took a while to get into- but once I had moved past that barrier I found it a highly enjoyable read. Thank you for sharing. I would be interested to read more of your work.

[Kaya]

I never considered catering as a profession i would actually have any interest in reading about. Although at first i thought it was a bit long, by the third or fourth paragraph i was thoroughly enjoying the read. A really good story.

[Monica-Antoinetta-Magda..]

I like it, at first I thought it was a little long, but as I got into the story I found that you use great imagery to really create the scene. All in all, a good write (:

[Scott W. Martin]

I feel as if there needs to be a larger story that this character plays a part in. It's perfect in the way that it brings the character to life and fleshes him out ... and though I enjoyed that very much and also very much enjoyed the ending, I'd have to say that it felt the whole time like I was waiting for something to happen. Like I was just missing out on something.
I found many parts to be very witty, which is something I personally like seeing in something I'm reading, and I like the humor that you used.
For what it is I have to say it's great. Nicely done. Very enjoyable.