I know, I know, I promised some blog posts soon.

To be honest I’ve seen rather too much of the M25 this month, including crawling round it today drinking very warm water!

I will have ‘worked’ in my capacity of a catering hospitality manager for 15 days out of the 31 in July, and that’s following the 10 I did in June.

I do this to pay bills, and really only need to do 3 or 4 days a month!

Oh well, it’s okay. I am being requested by the sites I work at, and really enjoy what I do. Summer is always busy, so I’d might as well make money while the sun shines.

Now at a least I can afford my iPhone and it’s two year contract, though I’ve decided not to buy one until I have finished the new play – very nearly there!

I also have my eye on a pair of in ear headphones (earphones?) having rekindled my Love affair with B&O earlier today in Loughton. I think the guy said they were £115. Nice though.

Oh and then there’s the new car. Not sure what it will be, but our beloved purple Micra which we’ve had for ten years now, and everyone takes the piss out of, though it’s done 105K, has never been serviced, has never given any problems or broken down (apart from not starting at home a couple of times), has only ever had a new battery, a couple of wiper-blades and a couple of light bulbs, and only failed it’s MOT last year cause the sills needed a little welding, will be replaced around October/November time.

I’d love to get an MX5, but Rich won’t be able to pick up stuff from Wickes, nor will we be able to go to the tip, or take his Mum and Dad out for the day, so I guess it’ll be something a little more practical, like a 5 door hatch back! – Oh and apparently, an MX5 is a hairdressers car, or so I’m been led to believe!

Wow, a 350+ blog post!

Sorry, got to go. Looks like I’m off to see ToyStory 3 with my brother and family.

Still promise to update soon. Loads of drafts!

Adios!

At a recent event I was doing a bit of staff training.

I’ve had problems in the past with waiting staff clearing away bottles and glasses with a little wine still left in them.

The trouble is, the bottle, generally with very little wine remaining, gets cleared away when the customer has left the table for a football match, dance or concert etc, only for them to return to the table during a break a little later to find their bottle gone.

Not unsurprisingly, the guest remembers the very nearly empty bottle to be very nearly full. Not a lot I can do, other than give them a new bottle in compensation.

I was explaining this to the staff, some of them new, and by way of further discussion on the subject I pointed out that regular restaurant diners would normally replace a bottle of wine in an ice bucket upside down to indicate to waiting staff that the bottle was indeed empty and finished with.

The key words here are “upside down”.

Anyway, fast forward to later on and the general clearing up after the guests had eaten and gone to watch the event. A young waitress approached me pointing to two empty bottles in the middle of the table next to me.

She asked if she should clear the empty beer bottles. Key word here being, of course, “empty”. She said quite clearly they were empty, and being clear glass, it was of course perfectly obvious to both of us they were indeed empty and finished with.

I explained, trying not to sound patronising, or indeed sarcastic, that clearing away the two empty beer bottles from the table next to us would indeed be a prudent idea.

Sorry to labour the ‘empty’ point.

Well in reply the young waitress explained she thought maybe she should clear the empty beer bottles away but was just checking with me since, and I quote: “they haven’t been turned upside down.”

I despair at times.

Well, this is going to have to be a very quick post!

I’m at the Yas Marina Circuit on Yas Island in Abu Dhabi. This place was a desert two years ago! Tomorrow the whole site goes live as it plays host to it’s first event – The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2009!

It is a truely spectacular place. Just try and watch a bit on Sunday and you’ll see how amazing this place is.

I’m working as a supervisor looking after a hospitality suite on the 2nd floor of the North Grandstand (Suite N20). The glass walls look out across the hairpin bend. My suite has perfect views of the cars as they slow right down to come into the bend (watch out for the huge Shell logo). If the drivers weren’t wearing helmets, I’d be able to clearly see their faces, I’m that close!

This for me is a truely amazing experience, and to be here in this brilliant place on it’s first event, and with that event being the last Grand Prix of the season, this truly is awesome!

Yas Island also has Ferrari World, a massive theme park, and concert venue. My suite has a balcony overlooking the stage. Beyonce is singing at the moment. Jamiroquai is playing tomorrow evening, Kings of Leon on Saturday and Aerosmith Sunday.

Right, gotta go! I’ll write a longer post when I get back, as I’m keeping notes in my notebook.

Bye!

Been doing a lot of event work over the last couple of months. Basically, whatever I can earn during the Summer means I can live my meagre existence for the rest of the year.

I’ve done Take That and Oasis in Coventry, Pussycat Dolls and Simply Red at Newmarket and the British Grand Prix at Silverstone!

I thought you might appreciate some funny stories, so here goes…

–

Whilst at the British Grand Prix I was responsible for the table planning and seating the various guests in a huge marquee they erect every year next to the BRDC Clubhouse.

In it they hold the Grand Prix Ball as well breakfast and lunch over the four day weekend. There were two sittings for lunch on the Sunday of the Grand Prix with four hunded covers per sitting.

I can asure you it was no mean feat seating and feeding that lot!

Once the guests entered the marquee they were checked off on the bookings list and then came and saw me pouring over my table plan.

I stood there with my clip board and sheets of paper knowing full well the plan was likely to change. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to know there were plenty of people who were ‘sure they had called and changed there four to a five’ as well as the inevitable ‘I know I should have booked, but can you squeeze me in?’

There was one that made me laugh though.

A certain racing celebrity, who shall remain nameless to protect me from the laywers, lol, had a booking for four. When he appeared I was stood their pouring over my plan and as he said his name I didn’t look up as I was searching for it.

But then I had to look up as his name suddenly registered in my brain!

“Oh, good afternoon”, I squeaked. “I have you on, err…” -sound of hectic paper rustling- “Oh yes, table 27.”

It was then he decided to politely inform me his booking for five was now for seven and he was sure that wouldn’t be a problem.

Well, yes, actually it would be; since the party that were going to be on the table with him would now have to be moved somewhere else, and I was fast running out of tables to move them too!

Well, Mr X and his guests, duly took their seats, and it wasn’t long before the other party arrived.

I had to tell them I couldn’t seat them where I had planned and when asked why, I quietly explained Mr X had added to his party.

“Oh!” came the joyous reply. “Thank God for that!”

It turns out Mr X is, allegedly, a bit of an arrogant bore and noone likes sharing a table with him!

*

Later on, towards the end of the second sitting, a woman arrived asking if her and a friend could eat; they hadn’t booked but were just wondering if it was possible.

Well there was only so much food, and I had already gone over the limit the chefs had allocated me for walk-ins, keeping a tally of the extras, like Mr X’s, and the enivitable drop-outs.

I took a gamble, since the woman was pleasant and there were only two of them.

I seated them and they ate, and then a bit later, they asked if they could move to a vacated table and watch the Grand Prix on the nearby screen, to which I duly agreed.

She was very pleasant and when she popped up during the race and asked if it was okay for her husband and his friend to join them, I of course said yes.

“My husband always watches the Grand Prix in here”, she said, thanking me.

That’s fine, I thought: the table wasn’t being used anyway.

We’d nearly finished service when the woman appeared again.

“Excuse me,” she smiled, in all her finery. “My husband was wondering if he could eat?”

Well by now I knew I was well over my quota for food, and there were still a few people yet to eat mains, and still more who’d yet to arrive.

Naturally, I was very polite in my refusal.

The lady went back to the table, it was reasonably close and within earshot.

“Sorry Darling”, I heard her say as she sat down again. “He said no; we didn’t book.”

And yes, I did feel a little guilty.

Well, toward the end of the race, with a handful of diners still chatting away, one of the regular BRDC staff noticed the same ageing gentleman sat there on his own and asked if he’d eaten.

I explained that he hadn’t booked, and that he seemed quite content just to sit there watching the Grand Prix on the screen, whilst practically every one else had gone to watch from the stands.

“Oh”, she commented, nonchalantly. “Stirling does that every year.”

–

I’ve also had a number of days work at Newmarket Racecourse this year – The July Course.

During the Summer, they have what they call Newmarket Nights: a series of meetings on a Friday evening followed by a concert for the race-goers.

Last year I saw Madness and UB40. This year I’ve seen Simply Red and, wait for it, The Pussycat Dolls!

Admittedly the Dolls weren’t really my cup of tea, but that day I had a rather enviable job.

Basically I was managing the Band Room which, during Newmarket Nights is the room in which, not surprisingly, the band are based.

I was in charge of the catering requirements and was the envy of the racecourse since other than my staff, Polly and Dale, and me, no-one else was allowed in the room with them, and we had the security badges to prove it!

Having arrived at the racecourse at about 8.30am my first job was organising breakfast for the production crew and the various roadies and other techie people already there and setting things up.

I then spent the rest of the day, running about sorting stuff on the band rider.

Supplied by the artists management, the ‘rider’ is a document stating what is required, and indeed expected, in terms of things like dressing rooms, and more importantly from my perspective, the catering.

There was a lot of stuff, and I could list the all the items of food, but you’d read it and go: wtf? Just like I did!

Highlights included sugar free gummie bears, all the flavors (lol) of mountain dew, and a “gallon of non-fat milk”.

I can assure you, the list was extensive. Most of it had been sorted, or at least to the closest UK equivalent, and I was to check it was all there. I have to say though, it was a complete waste, since they didn’t touch most of it and I took some of it home!

The Dolls (four of them, since the fifth was recovering from injury) arrived at 7pm- just in time to eat dinner with the rest of the crew.

Oh, and the rider required they be fed after the show too.

No problem. I had a chef on hand. I gave their PA a menu from the exclusive restaurant below and most of them chose something to eat.

The PA kindly wrote everything down and during the show I passed the list on to the chef and he set to work preparing a number of meals.

And then, within ten minutes of them returning to their dressing rooms I served the Pussycats and their entourage with a late evening meal.

Er, one problem.

Some had chosen a chicken dish and unfortunately what they thought was a simple chicken breast was actually a chicken terrine.

I went back down stairs and explaining this to chef, politely asked if he could do chicken breast for the three pussycats who had ordered the terrine by mistake.

He said it would take about 20 mins, but other than that, no problem.

Busy running up and down the back stairs for various other things like desserts and coffee, it was soon time to collect the chicken and I watched as chef reached into the oven and pulled out a tray with a solitary and rather small chicken breast on it.

I looked around for the others – but there weren’t any!

Chef explained he thought he was only supposed to cook one. I explained there were supposed to be three, and we both realised something had obviously been lost in translation.

Time to think quickly.

“Right,” I said, having had a brainwave. “Chop it into thirds, dump em on a bit of green salad, swish round some dressing and I’ll whizz ‘em up.”

“What!?”, came the reply. “But it’s tiny!”

“No prob’s” I said. “So are they! Just make ‘em look pretty and they’ll never know any different.”

And, of course, they never did!

–

Well, that’s it for this ‘event work’ post, except to add a couple of minor things…

Firstly, I had the pleasure of serving lunch to Boyzone last Friday, and had a quick chat with them after their gig too. Great guys!

Oh, and I’ll be off to the United Arab Emirates for a week at the end of October, as I’ve been requested to help manage the corporate hospitality for the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix!

I’m in Coventry, having breakfast in the Singers Bar and Bistro at the Ricoh Arena.

Nathan is making pretty pyramids out of juice glasses, Martin’s just started his shift, and Mark’s eaten the last apple danish!

I’m due to start work in an hour or so, so I thought I’d catch up with some blogging, courtesy of the free wi-fi.

I’m also waiting for Tom to come online, where I’ll guess I’l have to explain that eloping is runing off and getting married without your parents consent, and Gretna Green is a village in Scotland just north of the english border where you go if you want to elope!

Anyways, I’ll shortly be helping with the set up for tonight’s Christmas Live Event, ‘Circus Circus’ (so good they named it twice?).

This will be my third 12 hour shift, and my feet are beginning to ache, since you don’t get the opportunity to sit down. Good fun though.

I’ll help set up and do service for various corporate parties all on their christmas party.

We had 1470 people last night. And served them all a three course meal in 1 hour and 39 minutes. Great fun. (Mind you, spending four hours setting up 2960 glasses wasn’t the most exciting of jobs – Well done, James! What a star!)

After set up, my job is to manage the staff in my section, about 300 covers, making sure they are organised enough to get the food to the tables and clear each course.

You’d think that these young people were reasonably intelligent, and in the main they are, but when you get to a table and find they’ve had there main course served and someone has cleared the main course cutlery away with the starter cutlery, you do begin to wonder!

There are various circus acts performed between the courses then a live band. Oh an a fairground at one end of the huge 150 table exhibition hall!

In the words of Conrad from Lunch in Venice: “We have entertainment, but it’s totally cronic.” Especially when you’ve seen the exact same thing the night before.

There really is a limit to the amount of fire eating you can put up with. A few minutes yes, but fifteen?

One of the jugglers dropped his club, these were all alight as well, and so I told one of the lads in my section, that it was quite alright since the fire was a very special kind of performance fire that worked in such a way that although it looked like fire it didn’t atually set light to anything.

I think he believed me.

OMG, time to go – Nathan’s started singing along to “All I Want For Christmas”. X-Factor’s calling Nath!

I’m missing Rich, but I’ll be back home tomorrow, with a busy week of writing ahead, and a performance of Room 20! Yay!

Byeeeeee!

PS: TOM!! Where are you, mate!?

Just thought I’d do a quick blog post about last Friday; My day at Silverstone and practice day for the British Grand Prix.

Well it was brilliant.

I arrived at the clubhouse of British Racing Drivers’ Club (BRDC) half way through the first sitting of lunch. Diners included BRDC President, Damon Hill OBE and Vice President, Sir Jackie Stewart OBE. After a couple of hours there supervising the waiters I went on over to the BRDC marquee next door.

But not before I’d had a quick five minute visit to the first floor club lounge and then the roof terrace with a fantastic view of the whole circuit. One thing I hadn’t appreciated was the noise. The word ‘deafening’ doesn’t quite do it justice.

In the marquee I helped supervise the setting up of the BRDC Grand Prix Ball. 450 guests were due at about 7.30pm after a champagne reception on the lawn, including the board and their guests and other patrons.

After various management and staff briefings, we were ready for the off. A three course meal, with speeches from Damon Hill (not happy with Bernies decision to pack the British Grand Prix of to Donnington in 2010) and a visit from David Coultard (oh, and another driver whose name I can’t remember, but I do know he was foreign and had just turned 21.)

It all went rather well. Though to be honest I didn’t think much of Bjorn Again; the band hired for the after dinner entertainment. They were okay, I suppose. It’s just that I’d heard them doing all their sound checks and stuff while we were setting up in the afternoon. They were, of course, english, but when the evening came, they actually pretended to be the band members of ABBA, took their names and even put on fake Swedish accents. Oh and I’m not sure why they performed a couple of Status Quo numbers half way through, though there was a Rick Parfitt Jr on the guest list.

The patrons started leaving (along with half the staff) at about midnight, leaving us managers and the other half of the staff to set up for breakfast. Amazing to watch the whole stage set up and lighting rig in the marquee all come to pieces and disappear out the side exit as we were laying up tables.

At three am, the rest of the staff went too, leaving three managers and myself (oh, and a security guard who spent most of the time asleep) to finish off. We finished at 6:30 am as the next shift of managers and waiting staff who were doing breakfast arrived. The marquee had been transformed and it looked great.

Luckily for me, I wasn’t needed for Saturday, so after my marathon 18 hour shift, I drove the hour and half home, told Rich all about it, and climbed into bed for a well earned sleep.

Went to the Ricoh Arena in Coventry this weekend.

Getting there was a bit of a problem as I was due to be picked up at Reading Station at 7.20 on Saturday morning. I got to Guildford station on time and waited for the Reading train on platform 8. And on time the train arrived.

Two other passengers and I waited at the end of the platform and when the train arrived we tried to get on, but the first class doors at our end of the train didn’t open. By the time we realised there was a problem and got to a door that was open the guard very helpfully gave the signal to the driver and the doors closed in front of us! The train left us stranded on the platform.

Naturally we complained like hell at the arrogance of the guard – who knew he was being a complete and utter bastard. Sadly the duty manager (South West Trains) could do nothing since it was First Great Western who ran that service to Reading.

The manager was very helpful, and indeed appologetic since apparently that sort of thing happened rather a lot and they were constantly running out of compliant forms.

There was no way I could get to Reading by 7.20am and was going to have to drive to Coventry myself. Thankfully South West Trains paid for a taxi to take me back to Woking, which was very considerate of them since it wasn’t them that had caused the problem.

On getting into my car I reached into my pocket to take out my phone – except it wasn’t there. I’d left the damn thing in the taxi!

Cursing myself I drove home and borrowed Richard’s. I finally made it to Coventry at 10.30am (via Birmingham. I got a little confused when the M40 changed into the the M42!)

Had a brilliant time. I was working as a manager supervising a dozen or so staff who were running the corporate hospitality boxes at the stadium.

Saturday was Coventry v Wolves (football) and Sunday was Sarecens v Munsters (Rugby). No idea who won – I’m not in the slightest bit sporty!

Since I was there I stayed in the hotel over night. Clever actually, because the corporate boxes double as hotel rooms.

I got home about 11pm on Sunday, knackered but having thoroughly enjoyed it. Just a pity I’d lost my bloody phone!

1. Spend all day and all night Monday not doing anything apart from sitting/sleeping in a dark room and only communicating (when absolutely necessary) with one person because that’s what a bi-polar disorder can do to you.

2. Ditto for Tuesday.

3. Spend all day and all night on Wednesday standing/walking in the Venue restaurant at Wembley Stadium communicating verbally and non-verbally with upwards of 1000 England v Switzerland guests hoping nobody notices how useless you feel because you promised you’d do it two weeks earlier when you were feeling fine and you really need the money.

4. Spend all day and all night Thursday with a migraine, recovering.