Coffee, Tea or a Steaming Cup of Shut the Hell Up?

One of the necessities of life in Manhattan when you are an actor is the necessity of the Survival Job. I have four, but never mind.

An example is the rather nicely paying job of Cater Waiter. Many of the companies name themselves something semi-theatrical such as "Supporting Cast", "Great Performances", etc. in order to attract said theatre types to their ranks. Usually because our schedules allow us to work at night during the lean season of auditions, and also just because actors tend to be really good bullshit artists.

"Why I'll be right back with your regular coffee."

"Yes of course, I will put down this insanely hot plate of beef that I had to dance a ballet in order to perfectly situate the folded napkin around without sticking my thumb in the sauce to get you that Vodka Gimlet that you simply must have at this precise moment with 175 other waiters on my heels with the same plates in their hands". (I have always thought that the statue on the front of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil was really a cater waiter instead of a birdbath).

There is something about these venues (in this case one of the armories of NYC built in 1865--truly the creepiest building in the world) that seem to bring out the self-entitled in many. Open bar + charity + tequila shots = VERY IRRITATED STAFF. Do I make myself clear?

Now, moneyed, Phlanthropic types... repeat after me:
1) I will sit down when dinner is being served and will not stand in the aisle.
2) I will NOT sneer at the waiter and sonorously demand a vegetarian meal at the precise moment that three hundred fifty other plates are coming out of the far away kitchen.
I will simply ask the waiter for said option with the addition of what seems to be the most archaic and underused word in the English language; "Please..."
3) I will NOT expect regular coffee. Here's a little secret. No matter how many times you ask for it, it will always... ALWAYS be decaffeinated. Why? Some folks have reactions to caffeine. Dramatic ones... and while we DO try to accommodate one and all, in this particular case we do not have time to run back to Argentina and grab another pot. If we say we will, trust me... WE WON'T. Drink the decaf, or decline, sweep up the scattered shards of your evening and move on.

The above being said, enjoy your evening.
No of COURSE we don't expect tips... (see? ACTING!!!!!)