A born cater waiter?

More double shifts. As the week wears on I'm starting to feel a little...well you know.

LV in the morning and until late afternoon. Then I was on my bike to the next shift in someone's massive home in Who-dale. The cocktail parties at this time of year seem to be for an older crowd, a more elderly group. Working so frequently, they seem to blur together and I'm constantly reminded of my grandmother's parties at her house in Fredericton. She seemed to have many parties for whatever reason. I was a shy child and I dreaded these events because I would be expected to take coats and pass hors d'ouevres. How little things have changed. Her guests were conservatively dressed, the men in suits and the women in pant suits or sensible skirts with blouses, decorated with a simple brooch. Most guests would interact with me and ask about my school or my visit with Grandmother.
Up the stairs I would heft men's overcoats and perfumed furs. I'd lay them out on the bed and then would take direction from Grandmother on what to do next. There was always a table full of food, but some of the food had to be passed. I hated passing hors d'ouevres because of my shyness. The women thought it cute to see me with a plate of sandwiches making the rounds in the living room and would comment or say something sweet to me. Anything that drew more attention to me made it worse.
Just as I love the end of a party now, I loved it then. I felt free when the last coat was returned to a guest and I feel that way now.
I wonder what Grandmother would think of the work I'm doing now. She'd be proud. She was always proud of whatever I chose to do.
I'm glad she got to meet D. We made a point of going to Fredericton to visit her. It was a wonderful visit. I'm sure I've written about it before. I have such fond memories of my grandmother and especially of that visit with her.