Since I wasn’t at any of the dinners under discussion here and am in no position to judge the social nuances, I will refrain.
I’ve got my own bad waitering stories but they are few and far between. I have the advantage that, on the looks spectrum, I am closer to Churchill than Hemsworth, which gives me a splendid Resting Bitch Face. Accordingly, waiters tend not to try schtick on me.
But it wasn’t always so, which leads me to the point of my story, which is about waiters going above and beyond the call of duty.
I was 19 or so, and way back then cut a certain dash, although the awkwardness of youth had not left me, so still no Hemsworth.
I went with about 10 fellow students to a themed restaurant (Olde Englande) as I recall, with a bit of an interactive show, serving “wenches”, and so on.
At one point in the entertainment everyone was standing for some reason, when the MC got everyone to kiss the person next to them. Not everyone was a couple at our table, so there was a certain frisson of sauciness in doing so, but we had an odd number and I was the one left out.
So a very pretty waitress put down her tray, grabbed me, and gave me the loveliest kiss. And not just a peck. We’re talking tongues, here.
She didn’t have to do that. And this was Oz, where we don’t tip (so no “Did you give her a tip, fnurr, fnurr” jokes, if you will.)
I still get that wistful look when I remember it.