The worst night

Every once in awhile you just have one of those nights or days. You know the type, where nothing you touch works out well, or even ends up in a pile of rubble at your feet.

Last night was one of those nights.

The set-up is almost as wondrous as the absolute sideways turn the night took.

At the very posh hotel I work at, there is a suite that people or companies can rent out to entertain their guests. It is essentially set up like a luxury apartment, only hotel style. There is a giant TV, a big sitting room, a dining room, bedroom, bathroom etc. There is also a small bar type area that can be used for a private bartender to dispense drinks to the guests.  That is where I come in.  Last night was my first kind of experienc with something like that. When I walked into the room to set up I was pretty much in shock at the amount of booze. Dozens of 24s of beer, several 66ers of hard alcohol, coolers, magnums of wine, etc etc. It was pretty much like walking into the liquor store, but it was all free.. well free for the people in attendance.

The night started off slow and lame, not much to write home about really. I thought I was in for a long night of trying to busy myself so as to not look too bored and offput about being there. Then the wheels feel off the cart.

It started really when I stopped being able to keep up with the dishes and the drink requests, I can only move so fast. It escalated when a fine gentleman dropped a full beer on the tile floor behind my bar. It continued to go downhill when I ran out of ice and glasses at the same time… This all happened pretty much simultaneously. Of course, the suite is on the 3rd floor and the elevator works only when it feels like it, so I had to bust ass down the stairs. I procured ice, a mop and glasses and thought everything was under control. This is the point when I dropped an entire rack of glasses on the floor also behind my bar.

Awesome. Back down the stairs for the 3rd time in as many minutes to get the broom. Back up again to clean it up. Make the drinks, laugh at the drunken jokes, plaster a smile, don’t loose your cool.

Eventually they all left and I was left with the mess to clean up. Picture what your apartment looks like after a rager and then think 10 times worse. So I finally got everything under control, it was clean, my cart was piled high. (Side note about the cart, it is nicknamed after a mythical strong man and it is really hilarious to hear people in serious conversation refer to the cart as said mythical strongman…) I set off for the elevator.

I will admit, I was pushing it. Even strong men have a limit to what they can carry and I was pushing on it. I am more of a tetris girl than a janga queen.

I make it to the elevator, and even inside, and down to the main floor where I need to be. On the way out, the front wheel of my strongman cart hit the rut between the elevator and the floor. This caused my slop bucket full of all the dregs and discarded drinks, with a strainer full of straws and lime wedges and other assorted detritus to launch fully against the wall of the elevator and then soak the floor of the elevator entirely.

There were straws stuck to the elevator walls.

The glass candle holders on my cart also decided to make a leap for it and shattered all over the soggy booze and straw soaked carpet and got into the mix in fine style.

I cry laughed at this point. You know, the one where no tears happen but the laughter sounds like sobs rather than happiness.

There was nothing left to do but clean it up and drown my sorrows at the bottom of a pint of beer…..

~ by M. Hennigar on November 29, 2008.