Smoked trout?
Waitressing at cocktail events is an interesting occupation. You coast around to each of the little groups in a room, wrist aching under a tray full of unpronounceables, smile tacked to your face, and wave the food under their noses.
"Smoked trout? Smoked trout? Smoked trout?"
"Salmon?"
".... No. Smoked trout."
People are... intriguing creatures. I find that some are weirded out by your smile, but if you lower the brightness a notch, they still won't look at your face. Instead, they stare (worrying) downwards, and you've got to hope they're looking at the food, not your oversized dress shirt. Others return the smile, buoyed by cocktail buzz, and give little winks and silly comments.
But still, at the end of the night, you get paid. And you might even get to try the smoked trout. :)
My shoulders ache...
Oh, and I'm deeply upset by David Tennant's imminent departure from Dr Who. He is just so - so - so cheeky and joyful and LOUD and twitchy. Sigh. And adorable.