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I’m a Food Professional, Too.

We have a trick tonight and I finally got a chance to meet the bride and groom in person. All correspondence to date has been done via telephone and through a local friend. The friend is our friend, which is the only reason we took the job.

The Groom, we will call him Dick, had a complete air (Read: He was a cocky SOB) about him when he walked in the room. He would not look anyone in the eye and just kept gazing around the venue as if he were sizing it up to make new draperies for the windows.

The bride, we will call her Jane, spent her time batting her eyelashes at Dick or leaning her head on his shoulder when he would stop pacing long enough to give her the opportunity.

Dick was rude, arrogant and generally unpleasant. No problem. This is just all part of being a Food Whore. You just have to smile, pretend you're somewhere else and get through it. (And remind yourself over and over and over that at the end of the night, it’s about the cash.)

So this Dick, the first thing he wanted us to know was that he is a “Food Professional”.

Fabulous! I love it when I meet other people in the 'biz. There's an immediate connection and a desire to share funny anecdotes about things like tiny kitchens and clogged drains. “Wonderful!” I say, “What is it you do? Are you a chef?”

But there was no connection with Dick. Because Dick ignored my question.

Red Flag #1.

Every person in the business or anyone with OCFD NEVER ignores a food question and they never pass on opportunity to talk about themselves. Wolfgang Puck doesn't cater the Oscars because he's a wallflower.

Here's our further exchange:

"So, what exactly is our menu, again?” He asked.

"Hors d'oeuvres will start at 5:00 p.m. Included will be fresh chilled prawns, sun dried tomato and..."

"Prawns? You mean like, big shrimp?"

Red Flag #2

"Oh, never mind. I know what you mean. Of course I know what you mean. Ok, so what else? What is the main course?"

"We are doing prime rib with au jus, roasted asparagus, rice pilaf..."

"Rice what? What is pilaf?"

Red Flag #3, Eyebrow going up. This joker doesn’t know what rice pilaf is.

"Whatever it is I don't want it. I want risotto. Do you know what Risotto is?"

"Oh most certainly. We can do whatever you like..."

"Then I want risotto.”

At this point our friend interjects and says, “They know what they are doing, I have complete trust in them as should you.”

“Fine, but I am bringing my own bartender,” He says.

“Well, ok. That will be fine. Can I get his or her name so we can touch base and go over the plan for the night?”

“Well I don’t know who it is, yet. But, I don’t know. I just want my own bartender.”

By this time my partner and I were kicking one another under the table so hard that I have it was getting harder to hide the winces.

The entire meeting was riddled with exchanges like that. Two more times he said he was a food professional and two more times he ignored when asked what exactly he did for a living.

The trick is tonight. The staff has been warned about the fact that Dick is a real dick.

And I just found out what kind of “food professional” Dick is. He works at a hotel and was just recently promoted from bellhop to room service attendant.

Dick is a room service attendant.

Let the games begin.

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Posted by Foodwhore at March 20, 2004 09:20 AM