Its been a long day, its almost a full moon and I have been waiting patiently for George Michael at the Sydney Football Stadium. I am finally relaxing after another hectic week serving lingering lattes and catastrophic cappuccinos. People breakup over lattes and get fired over cappuccinos. Anyway that’s all for another day.

I am sitting incognito – no uniform, a bit scruffy comfortable casual looking. I never thought I would be bothered or recognised, after all, its my media seeking camera posing boss who gets all the attention. Then out of no where, I hear the voice. Its spine chilling. “Hey VIVO girl, (girl?) get us a cappuccino will ya!” Followed by hoots of laughter. Hilarious. I ignored them. Hoped they would be done with that one comment. Of course not. Everyone is turning around, trying to find who they were laughing at. Again “Hey VIVO, don’t you serve here?” more hooting. Of course my section of VIVO extends suburbs and includes the Sydney Football Stadium, what was I thinking by not jumping to look after them? I did what any self respecting warrior waitress would do, I threw my chips at him. They were yuk anyway, might as well send them somewhere else besides my butt. He looks at me, a bit angry and yells back “is that anyway to treat a customer?” He was right. I was remiss in not throwing more chips at his mates as well. I actually have a great aim, and I can make things heavier than they really are. Its a talent, a very handy talent, that sends chips into your beers, makes them splash all over your lap and face and then shuts you up. A multitasking warrior waitress who can serve anywhere. Where is George?

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