Last night I worked a banquet for a catering company I've temp'ed with several times before.
No big news with this one-- there were no elephants (like at the last banquet I bartended for), there were no pirate costumes, no chocolate fountain malfunctions.
There was a new 'captain' for this company. someone I had never worked for or seen before, so he didn't know me. He was very nice, though, and kept a fairly pleasant demeanor despite the stress of it being only his second party. He did, however, forget my name at one point (but who can blame him? There are a half dozen of us wearing tuxedo shirts and pants and a black bowtie) and so he instead motioned to me and this other guy I was polishing glasses with.
"Who me?" said the guy next to me, a tan, blond, late 30s former-surfer looking tall guy who also could have been a model in the early 90s-- his teeth are pearly white.
"No," said the new banquet captain, "The beefy one... Rob... is it?"
I'm now being looked at (and known in the catering circuit) as "The Beefy One."
I'm going back on my baby carrots for lunch diet.
The other thing that happened, or rather, that I noticed at this party was that STRAIGHT men, (and I've noticed this at several parties)-- STRAIGHT men, when faced with a Madonna song while on the dancefloor, automatically pull out their INNER GAY.
I'm telling you, this happens every time. A bunch of guys will be doing shots off of the bridesmaid's boobs, giving toasts about football games and hookers, and then they go out to the dancefloor and start attempting to move and shake to "Louie, Louie" or "Love Shack," but then when Madonna comes on something magical happens.
Be it "Into the Groove" (which it was last night) or "Vogue" or "Music"... all of a sudden these frat boys become sorrority sisters: shaking their ass and swiveling their hips and shimmying their shoulders. Flicking their heads back and forth, flipping their hair. It's unbelievable.
Somebody should do a study on this.