Unbagging the Cats 1

Unbagging the Cats 1

Monday, August 15, 2011

Dear Catered Buffet Busgirl

Laughing Karma, ruler of my universe, has decreed that I shall have no dearth of diatribes destined for Unsent Letters.

The latest in a series of events designed to upset my applecart manifested itself this morning upon my return to the world of working people. I have fought the urge all day to drop a line to the catered buffet busgirl. And now the opportunity presents itself.

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Dear Catered Buffet Busgirl:

Let me congratulate you on the gusto with which you carry out your duties. I admire a person who is not afraid of good, old-fashioned work. Your are to be commended for your gung-ho table-clearing performance. A more driven individual I never shall meet.

You have elevated yourself to Wimbledon Ball Boy status in my eyes. For sixty minutes, you were at the ready, eager to pounce. Like a rat terrier left overnight in a vermin-infested restaurant. Only your prey was the empty foam plate. The nanosecond such a plate was relieved of its load of eggs, hash browns, bacon, biscuits, gravy, cinnamon roll, cantaloupe, honeydew, watermelon, pineapple, strawberries, and grapes, you sprang into action. Darting into the jumble of plastic-clothed tables, arms akimbo, you snagged the finished breakfast plates before the eater even knew she was done. Almost as if you were psychic.

I'm sure you never entertained the idea that some breakfasters might like to consume the three grapes, lone strawberry, or single cinnamon whorl that remained on the object of your ultimate quest. Perhaps you imagined the hunched shoulders and eagle-talon grip of your quarry-thwarters to be early manifestations of Dowager's hump, or arthritis. Au contraire.

Your haste has provoked us to react like so many Elaines trying to save theater seats from a horde of swarming moviegoers. "Taken. It's taken. TAKEN!" Except we are protecting the delectable morsels we worked so hard to pile upon our foam plates.

In the future, please allow patrons to consume all foodstuffs before removing plates from tables. Our administration has paid a pretty penny to stuff us with good will. It's not like we are savoring a seven-course repast with the intention of writing a review. We are teachers. We eat faster than any demographic on earth, with, perhaps, the exception of state penitentiary inmates and sixteen-year-old boys. Would another thirty seconds have put a crimp in your schedule?

Signed,
President of the Clean Plate Club

9 comments:

Sioux said...

That buffet girl was treading on dangerous ground. Teachers rarely get free food. When we do, we get territorial. And unruly. Perhaps she had a death wish...

Yes, we eat faster than anyone else, and we also have the capability to pee incredibly quickly (at least the elementary teachers do).

You need to send that letter. For teachers everywhere. My god, the center of the cinnamon bun--is nothing sacred.

Val Thevictorian said...

Sioux,
I knew you would feel my pain. I held onto my plate, and saved the cinnamon center. Some colleagues lost their fruit. Too bad, so sad. The meek may inherit the earth, but they'll be hungry meeks if they don't learn to stand up to the busgirl.

We have a new Olympic event on our hall. It's a cross between race-walking, holding in pee, and roller derby. The minute the bell rings, we're OFF! To the bathroom at my end of the hall. No handicapping here. I'm closer, and I usually win. You'd be amazed at how the meeks turn surly when they have to wait their turn at the potty. The door-pounding used to startle me off the toilet. Now I relax by arguing with the angry mob. The best retort is, "You're making me go slower because I can't concentrate." I suspect they are readying the flaming torches and tar and feathers to start the year right.

Linda O'Connell said...

Dare I admit this? Last week when a waiter in a grub-tub buffet restaurant reached for my plate with food still on it, I instinctivley reached out to slap his hand. We both looked startled.

labbie1 said...

Whew! I misread the title as Dear Catered Buffet Bugsgirl! I had visions of bugs in the buffet!

I feel your pain at the center of the cinnamon roll! I mean--the very THOUGHT!

How is Hubby?

Tammy said...

I laughed myself silly at this. No one is more protective of free food than teachers. It's a well-known fact that you can clean out your refrigerator and put the unrecognizable stuff in the teacher's lounge, and someone will eat it. I've met Catered Buffet Busgirl before and am surprised she still possesses enough fingers to do the snagging.

Sioux said...

Hey, ancient elbows can be used to your advantage. Do NOT apply lotion to them. Raising them up with gusto as you run could put an eye out if they're dry and scaly enough...

Also, if an old, nonsupporting brassiere is worn, there would be OTHER things that could serve as weapons.

To be the first one to the toilet, every advantage must be utilized.

Val Thevictorian said...

Linda,
You are such a good influence on society, always doing your part to instill manners in the uncouth. Wasn't it you who enlightened that girl behind the counter that she probably should wash her hands after groping her retainer in full sight of the customers? Kudos to you for inhibiting the creeping anarchy. On the other hand, you are also inhibiting the launch of my handbasket factory.

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labbie,
Thank goodness you didn't misread "therapist" as "the rapist", as a student did in a colleague's class. And that was years before Darrell Hammond's Sean Connery did it on SNL Jeopardy.

Hick is fine and dandy. His doctor even told him he could inform his wife (who would be ME) that he is a perfect waste-expelling orifice.

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Tammy,
I know one who ate leftover BBQ catered for conferences on a Thursday night. The feast sat out for several hours. It was last consumed the following Wednesday. I was waiting for her to hallucinate like Homer Simpson after he grabbed his rotten sub sandwich out of the garbage can. That Marge! She only had his best interests in mind.

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Sioux,
I am well ahead of your advice. Just this evening, I was marveling at the crustiness I have accrued. I refuse to follow your second tip, since I would have to wear a protective helmet to remain conscious while pummeling others.

irishoma said...

This is so funny. But I applaud the busgirl for being so vigilant.
Donna

Val Thevictorian said...

Donna,
She was an overachiever. We were surly overeaters.