A Classic Case Of

Working Life On The Big Pond

The Biter Bit

One of a series, by BILL DAME

Life on a trans-Pacific luxury liner is champagne, filet mignon and glittering parties for the passengers, but for the crew it’s hard work. The excellence in service that we strive to give creates tensions that have to be relieved. There are usually enough laugh-creating incidents that provide the escape valve for this tension, but if a spontaneous one doesn’t develop we sometimes resort to practical jokes.

A particular staff member —let’s refer to him as Mr. “A” (for Antagonist)—had a running, good natured feud with the Pastry Chef.

This feud was the main source of amusement in the Special Dining Room.

Mr. A, in a booming voice of mock anger, insulted the selection of lavish desserts each day for months, insisting that they were pre pared mixes. The entire crew knew that the dedicated chef, a European whose English was poor, spent long, careful hours with each delicious, delicate offering; but the chef was a proud man and always defended his excellent creations with a mixture of fractured English and furious fist shaking at Mr. A.

Poetic justice

Came All Fools’ Day, and the Pastry Chef held a whispered con ference with Mr. A’s waitress, a girl who believed in poetic justice.

Mr. A’s favourite dessert, chocolate petits fours, was on the menu. He ordered a serving and ate contentedly while the waitress and the Pastry Chef watched quietly, but with grow ing alarm. After Mr. A swallowed a bite or two, the suddenly worried Pastry Chef grabbed what was left, took a bite, chewed furiously, turned pale, then rushed into the galley, followed by the protesting waitress and by bewildered Mr. A.

The Pastry Chef yelled to his assistant, “Vere is dot special choco late I maked for dis bum? Dere was a cherry on the side”.

“What was so special about it? It was just sent out.” .

“Oh, no! Dot was Lux soap inside!

Vich waitress?” There was now agony in his voice.

“I don’t know. They all look alike from back here!”

The Executive Chef and the Maitre d’ were summoned and learned of the crisis. Which un suspecting passenger was about tc get chocolate-dipped Lux soap foi dessert? Both chefs cursed and the waitress began to cry.

To the rescue

The Maitre d ’ quickly took a re a! serving of petit fours into the dining room and with a practised glance he scanned the dignified diners. There near the centre of the room he sav a tray of desserts about to be served one of them was petit fours with the telltale cherry. He unobtrusively exchanged plates and walked calmly towards the galley, followed by the silent, questioning gaze of the waitress who was about to serve it As the Maitre d’ entered the galley the anxious Pastry Chef, weepini and wringing his hands like Aida ii Act 111, took an eager bite of the offending “thing”, then spat viciously into the garbage can while half of the galley staff looked on in wonder.

Washing out his mouth he ex claimed, “Nefer I thought dat soa] would taste so goot!”

Nefer again did Mr. A insult th desserts.