So a few nights ago, in an effort to get some extra bucks, I agreed to some casual work at a fancy art gallery in a suburb for the well-to-do. The deal was, I pour expensive wines and open top-shelf beers for the wealthy local socialites who may or may-not be there to actually buy artworks. My shift goes for 2 hours, I can have a drink of the expensive wine while I do it, and I get paid 100 big ones for my time....can this get any better??
I went, I served, and dear Lordy, I drank. The champagne was incredible. It would've been rude not to drink it... (and by 'rude', I mean 'professional'). I didn't realise how pissy I was until I declared "Thish ish a delicioush shhhampagne".
After guzzling quite a few, I deployed myself to the cheese table, stuffing my face full of the delicioush cheeses and washing it down with more delicioush champagne while I cleaned the socialities empty glasses. In hindsight, probably not the greatest first impression to give the owners of the gallery since this could be a great casual money earner in 'The Summer of Kate'.... and understandably I'm not expecting a call back.
Quote of the night (from a local 'coulda been someone' artist who must've sniffed out the free booze):
When asked by the other female bartender if he was enjoying the art he replied "no, but I enjoy looking at the two of you". Oh dear.
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