“How do I get away with looking like what?” I replied.
Damn.. I should’ve been more creative with my response–this girl is hot.
Things I Could Have Said That’s Better Than What I Replied:
- “Looking so handsome?” – no, too obvious.
- “Like Ryan Gosling if he could grow a thick beard?” – no, I don’t look anything like him even if he had a thick beard
- “Who says you have to let me get away?” – no, too big a play on words. She’s foreign and probably wouldn’t get it
- “Like the guy you’re waking up next to tomorrow morning?” – no, that’s creepy and makes me sound like a pervert
- “How do I get away with looking like this and being single?” – YES! Should’ve said that. Would’ve been playful and alert her that I’m available. Too bad I didn’t think of that until a week later when writing this blog post.
So instead of saying any of that cool jazz… I repled, “How do I get away with looking like what?”
“With your hair down and face unshaven?”
“I, uh, I don’t really work here.”
“I know you don’t,” she replies, “because I work here.”
“Oh. What do you do?”
“I am a cocktail waitress at the bar downstairs.”
Let me backtrack. Every year this hotel in Beverly Hills called L’Ermitage throws a Winter Ball for their employees to thank them their hard work during the previous year. Since the staff are the guests at the party, including the servers and bartenders, the hotel hires a temp agency to cater the event. That’s where Adventure Paul came into the picture.
I arrived about 45 minutes early because I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to drive from The Valley to Beverly Hills. Depending on the time of day, the same drive could take 20 minutes or 2 hours.
I pulled up to the front of the hotel and spoke to the valet. “Hello, I am here to cater an event at the hotel tonight. Where should I park?”
“You can park right here in our hotel garage! You just missed the driveway though. Pull around the block and turn into that driveway behind you. Park on the bottom floor of the garage and someone will help you from there.”
Five minutes later I walk into the basement of Hotel L’Ermitage and am greeted by a kitchen staff member named Oscar, whose name I just made up because I forgot what his tag said. The kitchen staff and select front desk associates were the only team members who didn’t attend the party that night because they had to help service it.
“Excuse me. Do you know where I can find Drew or Colleen?”
“Oooh, Mr. Drew! Yes, please follow me. I will take you there. It is very confusing.”
Oscar leads me down a long maze of hallways into an elevator, up a few floors, then down another long hallway. He was right–I would have never found this place.
I’m in a kitchen, still a couple floors below the Lobby of the hotel.
He leaves me outside the door of a small office with no windows and says that Mr. Drew should be there soon. I’m extremely impressed with the service at this hotel already. They are even very helpful and friendly to the temporary service help–I bet being a paying guest is awesome.
15 minutes later I’m escorted by the head of security to the rooftop of the hotel where the party will be happening later that night. He seems stressed out in the elevator ride upstairs so I say, “If there’s anything I can do to make your life easier tonight, just let me know.”
This made him happy and he replied, “Thank you but don’t worry about a thing. You just make as much money for yourself as you can.”
So there will be tips? No, there wasn’t.
The roof of the hotel had a pool on one side, a small kitchen in the middle, and a large canopy on the other side where the party was being held.
10 tables with about 15 seats a piece were set up on the Northwest section, a bar at the entrance, and a buffet in the center of the room.
What a view from the top of the roof!
Right around 5 oclock the rest of the temp staff arrived–9 people in total. Our first task was to set up the bar with three choices of beer, 6 choices of wine, Coke, Sprite, and sparkling water.
When I saw how seriously the other members of the temp agency were taking this job, I knew I was in for an easy night. As a generous, caring person, I did not want to work too hard and take away the opportunity for them to do so.
Call me lazy if you’d like–but who cares about impressing a manager who doesn’t know your name and will never see you again?
What’s funny is that AdventurePaul.com is all over search engines because SEO is what I do professionally. As soon as I publish this article, it will be at the top of Google for “Beverly Hills Hotels” or “L’Ermitage” so now they will remember me as the caterer who ate appetizers all night. But I haven’t gotten to that part yet.
Most of my coworker temps were new to Los Angeles–a couple aspiring actors, one couch surfer, a recently married young couple–overall a nice group of people. There was one girl who said her name was Valentina, but I didn’t believe her because that name didn’t appear on the list. Granted, “Adventure Paul” didn’t appear on the list either, but I didn’t introduce myself as such.
Skip ahead a couple hours. The guests have started to pour in.
My first job was to pass out appetizers–pork/sausage stuffed mushrooms and fried mozzarella balls. I was starving come 7pm because I arrived way too early to the event and ate way too early of a lunch that day. I immediately figured out that I could eat one appetizer off each tray before leaving the kitchen and space the rest of them out so no-one would notice. I started working very quickly, hurrying in and out of the kitchen and dispersing my appetizers so I could run back for more.
It was during this time that the conversation happened with a young woman in a tight dress and Lady Gaga style makeup, sitting at one of the tables. “How do you get away with looking like that?”
The chefs at L’Ermitage are incredible.
Later in the night, they let us eat as much food as we’d like, including appetizers and the full menu of salmon, steak, pasta, Caesar Salad, cake, doughnut puffs, and a few other items. I ate like I was homeless and this was my only meal all week.
By the end of the night, the staff was pleasantly wasted and some of the woman started to speak freely to me… “You are like black hair Fabio..” one woman said as she grabbed my hair.
It was fun serving these folks. Before I arrived at the hotel, I had no idea what I was catering. (This was my first job with this temp agency–and maybe my last if they read this!) For all I knew, it was a party for the hotel guests, but instead it was for Beverly Hills finest–the staff members. I’m a sucker for the working class because I am a member. I feel like we treat each other better. Ever notice that fellow servers are the best tippers?
So how do I get away with looking like this?
“Looking like _________…”
Fill in the blank in the comments section below. You can say whatever you’d like–I can take it.