A couple more catering stories: once we worked a party at a woman’s house where she kept proudly showing her guests her dog’s new manicure and many awards. The dog kept getting in our way and we kept nearly trampling it underfoot while we tried to pass apps and I kept wondering why the woman didn’t just put the dog in another room for a while until I realized that the dog was literally the one hosting the party.
Another time we worked a pool party at which 60-70 people were supposed to show up and at which about 9 people actually did. It was just me and another dude my age (I can’t remember his name but his corresponding girlfriend was named Rian) and a keyboardist who looked about 40, and his girlfriend who looked about 14 (she just hung out behind him smoking cloves). Neither one of us knew how to bartend and our boss had very quickly demonstrated how to make a Cosmo before he left but he assumed the guests would be making their own drinks while we served food. But you can only pass the same 4 types of apps to 9 people so many times, so we became bartenders for the rest of the night, both of us totally unaware that our sense of alcohol serving-size was on the deeply generous side. So we stood there and watched and refreshed the appetizer table every few hours while the host of the failed party got slowly and entirely wasted and then jumped in the pool with her clothes on.