You Had To Be There
They were having a crisis in the cantina. That much was easy to see, every time the kitchen doors swung open. Steam, flames, and a few (too few) ill-tempered cooks throwing food on to plates and shrieking for the waitresses. That’s what you get for sitting close to the kitchen – a bird’s eye view of a meltdown in the making. If I hadn’t been so hungry, it would have been funny.
On the face of it, the restaurant itself was calm and organised, at least, it was at first. Later, well, that was a different story. I was supposed to be meeting a colleague but he’d developed a bout of - well, you don’t need that information - but he’d cried off anyway, so I was there on my own. A guy’s gotta eat, after all.
Over the other side of the restaurant there was this big table, about a dozen blokes, making fast and loose with the booze. Well, when you’re away on an expenses-paid all-inclusive jaunt, why not?! On the same jaunt as them, I was doing it too, truth be told, but no-way keeping up with these guys. Obviously friends as well as business associates, they were working their way down the drinks menu with almost military efficiently - wine, beer, jugs of margaritas and round after round of really evil looking cocktails. Not their fault really, the service was sluggish to say the least. The kitchen, well, you remember what I said about the kitchen, don’t you? Their waitress was smiling sweetly and laughing at their jokes – it’s her job, after all. She’d taken their order hours ago and despite the drinks, this particular crew were beginning to get a little.... irked... by the delay. A quick word with the manager and the waitress – sensible girl – summoned up some cold bits-and-pieces, chips’n’dips kinda stuff, to stave off the hunger pangs. Could I get some of that care and attention over here, darling, please?
The dippy stuff cheered the guys up some, but time was passing and they were getting bored and very restless. They started coming and going, and here’s where the problems really began. They were in and out of their seats, in and out of the restaurant, making and taking calls on their mobiles, having a smoke, getting some fresh air, eyeing up the passing totty. One moment there’s ten of them at the table; next moment there’s three, then six, then four. And as the proper starters began to arrive, confusion reigned. I’m sure one or two had given up and gone off to find a curly sandwich in the bar and when the food landed, nobody was quite sure who had ordered what. Everybody still at the table got a plate of something, and the rest was piled up in the middle. That’s what happens when the food is ‘free’ – who worries about the waste? Still without food myself, I’m thinking, maybe I could wander over and beg a bowl of those cheesy nachos? Just a mouthful or two, please, for a hungry man?
At last a waitress brought me food. I got to eat, but it was hardly a high-point – a soggy enchilada and a rather tired salad in a burnt taco shell, in case you’re interested. It wasn’t great, but it was well after 9pm and I’d been there for almost two hours. I didn’t care – I had to eat and go. Apart from pure hunger, I’d arranged a meet with a guy involved in customs clearance the next day and that meant an early start, before the main event kicked off. As I ate, I watched the guys, still coming and going. A few had gone for good after the starters and one or two were outside as the main courses began to arrive. There were just four or five stalwarts at the table when this new face appeared. I guess he’d been passing the restaurant and spotted some of his group. He’d ambled in cheerily and sat down at the table with them as the waitress emerged from the kitchen loaded with mains. The table was confused – nothing was quite right. Sides missing, salads where refried beans shoulda been, well-done instead of medium-rare. Grumpy? These guys were holding back, you could see, but they weren’t happy. Still, food is food.
I had to laugh though, everybody was passing plates around and the waitress was as confused as the guys. In the end she just about gave up, and planted her last plateful down in front of New Guy. I don’t know if she realised he hadn’t ordered anything, or maybe she just didn’t care. Anyhow, New Guy cute-as-you-like, popped a napkin on his lap, picked up a fork and started tucking into that plate. I could see the other guys round the table looking at each other, not quite sure what to make of it. Quiet glances and quizzical expressions first, but then the sniggering started. Somebody must have asked him what he was eating, as he shrugged his shoulders, but he continued to trough away, oblivious to the smirks and giggles, helping himself to nachos, dips and salad too. He even poured himself a glass of wine! I guess, with it being all-inclusive, he figured nobody would mind. But he hadn’t banked on how hungry everybody was – including the guy whose food he was finishing off!
Talking of which... back into the restaurant came two more from the table. Having finished their phone calls and their smokes, they’d seen the food arriving. Straight away, it was easy to spot the fella who’d just unwittingly sacrificed his dinner to New Guy. He approached the table and looked around. Nobody seemed to want to meet his gaze, although they all knew it was his food disappearing down New Guy’s throat.
He had that kinda hungry-bear ‘who’s been eating my porridge’ look about him, as he stood pointedly beside New Guy and his half-eaten dinner. Jovial as the rest of them had been earlier on, his face was like thunder, but he was still trying to rein it in. I guess when you network at a place like this each year, you don’t want to become known as the one who lost it over a plate of chilli-beef. The other guys could hardly contain themselves now and I think their laughter helped him to see the funny side. He settled down next to New Guy and they passed him one of the other uneaten platters and poured him a drink. He sulked a bit, and picked a little – he was clearly disappointed to miss out on his chilli-beef. But in the end, he took it all in good spirits and washed his cares away with a few more ‘good spirits’ off the drinks menu.
That’s what it’s like with these guys from the freighting world – they work hard, they play hard, they know how to have a sense of humour when things don’t quite turn out and they know how to be friendly, and forgiving. Let’s just hope they don’t get asked to share their food too often!
And wouldn’t you know, when the man from Customs Clearance Ltd showed up for our meeting the next morning, turned out he was the very guy who’d lost his dinner the night before. Good job I’d ordered up the coffee and bagels before he got there – he tucked in like he’d not been fed for a week. He must have had a really sore head too, but he didn’t realise I knew it. He hid it well but I powered in with a ton of questions, as I needed to know what his business could do for me and we didn’t have a lot of time. He knew his stuff though and he persuaded me that outsourcing customs clearance could actually save me money. He impressed me. He won my business. But I made him sing for his supper!
26th May 2009
