Read Online Waiter to the Rich and Shameless: Confessions of a Five-Star Beverly Hills Server by Paul Hartford - Free Book Online

mind, but I was seduced by the glorious atmosphere
of the Cricket Room and intrigued by the confidence our Maître d’ was placing
in me to handle the art of food service their way. I should have stayed behind
my polished mahogany bar, been the cool guy mixing exotic drinks for the 1% of
society, and continued to turn down more ass than most guys get in a lifetime.

Chapter
4 The Party
    I
was surprised at how well I had fit right into the scene at the Cricket Room. I
wasn’t a celebrity fucker but I did enjoy rubbing shoulders (and only
shoulders) with people who had become A-Listers.  It also helped that I enjoyed
characters, including my colleagues, who had roles of their own to play and
played them well. There was always a lot of pride evident in the staff;
everyone knew they were privileged to work there.
    Who
knows why I was so fascinated by jocks, jerks, and jump-your-bones bimbos that
populate Hollywood today. Maybe it was the contrast between their trashy
behavior and what I perceived to be the class acts of previous stars and
starlets. Memory and history do have a way of whitewashing the truth. Ever
heard some dork tell you how great high school was? And you just know he lived
with a permanent wedgie and carried breath freshener and acne cream in his
hand-me-down-jacket pocket.
    Or
maybe it was my own dream of rock stardom that just wouldn’t go away; it was
always a mosquito buzzing in my head. Could I gain some sudden inspiration or
learn some magical method for rocketing to fame and fortune? Maybe. And in the
meantime it couldn’t hurt to work amidst the Hollywood glitterati in the most
famous bar/restaurant on planet Earth.
    One
of my new friends – a consummate performer in his own right – was my Danish colleague
Jens. Our common Scandinavian background made our soon to be prodigal bond even
tighter. We were both making enough money to begin to party somewhat in the
manner of the degenerate show biz types we served at “The Room.”  
    It
also helped that we shared the exact same work schedule.  One perfect So-Cal
spring day Jens invited me over to his girlfriend’s condo in Sherman Oaks.  The
complex had two swimming pools with hot tubs attached; her unit was just a
two-minute walk from one of the pools. It was a very lush and quiet complex
with most of the tenants at work since our days off were during the workweek. 
    Jens
gave me a tour of the unit; it was a two-bedroom, two–and-a-half bathroom
townhome with Brazilian dark-wood floors and elegant furniture, a balcony facing
the pool and another in the back. The fridge was stocked with food and there
was ample wine and booze to be had as well. Jens instantly offered me a
Margarita.  Why would I say no?  Even if it only was one o’clock in the
afternoon on a Wednesday, anytime was party time for Jens – if he wasn’t
working. 
    A
couple of dips in the pool and a few margaritas later, Jens started to share
stories about his past.  His gift for storytelling was one of the reasons he
was a waiter who people remembered. As we were paging through loose photos from
his life in Ibiza which he kept in a shoebox stashed under the bed in the guest
bedroom, he became even more excited and energetic.   Every guy has that secret
stash of pictures that he hides like buried treasure and digs up every so often
to count the gold and polish the jewelry.  Valuables he can’t share with his
wife or girlfriend because she wouldn’t understand, or simply wouldn’t want to.
The big drama comes when they’re discovered and long stuttering explanations
ensue. But I digress...
    He
had pictures of himself bartending in some kind of club with a dance floor covered
with soap bubbles and semi-nude girls everywhere. There were pictures of Jens
partying on a yacht; pictures with hot, horny girls on both arms, one with a
leg twisted around his and the other with her tongue in his ear.  The more
pictures I saw, the more I realized that this guy was a true party