47
It was my first job with the catering company. They turned me down when I first applied, but then someone called in sick and I was parachuted in. No idea what I was supposed to do or say or what the drill was.
"Just smile and hold the tray," Mrs Leibowitz said to me and the other staff. She was this beehived nightmare in a stiff gold dress, the party planner for the night. “When the tray's empty, come and get a refill,” she said. “But don't touch the guests. Don't talk to the guests. Don't stare at the guests. And strictly no selfies."
So Mrs Leibowitz, in her stiff gold dress, sent us out of the kitchen armed with our trays. I was hoping for canapés, but someone handed me a tray of champagne flutes. Which seems pretty easy, until you realise how heavy the tray is . . . I've only got
