the joys of waiting on

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by shortfuse, May 26, 2005.

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  1. if like myself you generally had more extras than a cecil b de mille movie epic , about this time of year you could look forward with great anticipation to all the lovely waitering you'd get to do for officers ,w.o's & sergeants AND corporals messes ....
    Oh what fun I had,from the very first moment of reading my name on squadron orders (to muffled giggles behind me) all the way back to the block to break the news to my room mates, who would sympathetically curl up laughing, ironing my barracks dress and no. 2 shirt to the first 4 bars of Madness' seminal waiters track "return of the las palmas 7"... if you've ever been dicked for waiting on you'll know how it goes because everyone who ISN'T waiting will repeat the first bit ad nauseum...
    Now , even in the lowest of low jobs there is a strict pecking order and being a "more experienced" waiter i would always go for the vino rather than the scoff side of things to avoid putting my thumb in the soup or dropping a large piece of salmon mousse down the top of some horrors ball gown.... plus you could always guaranteed to be f*cking leaping by about 21:00 :D
    One particular year at 22 engineer regiment screws mess ball , myself and a lad from yorkshire called "spiv" .... ironic really because in barracks dress he was anything but ... more "spaz" really, but i digress..
    we got so f*cking hanging that between courses we had a p1ss yer pants competition, i managed a fine frontal butterfly coupled with full double legger and squelchy boots spiv could only manage a small frontal damping much to the scorn of the lads in the pan bash who showed their displeasure by slam dunking a half eaten curry bratwurst across his befuddled chops.
    the pudding course came and went in a blizzard of red and white wine and to be honest by the time we had to take the port out i was struggling to stay upright, but soldiered on and made it through to the disco, but meanwhile in "back of house" all was not well....
    On a morale boosting trip to the kitchens the RSM had found spiv sitting in a swill bin in barracks dress covered in curry sauce and thought he'd been glassed by one of the pan bash lads, who he was daintily trying to get to confess by drowning him in a sink full of wine glasses ... spiv slept through the f*cking lot without even twitching.. at this point I found something "very important" to do, and disappeared into the blackness of the disco to ensure the lads in my troop got all the beer they (and me) could handle .... the last thing i remember is spiv and the entire pan bash being marched off to nick by a very p1ssed off RSM....

    then there was the time we set fire to the "winter wonderland" officers mess christmas ball ..... :D but that's another story.
    Have you got any "i got spammed for waitering but made the most of it" anecdotes ?
  2. Cracked up! :D
  3. ive been spammed for waiting on and bar work best parts are:

    skiffing the mess cutlery!!!!

    nicking as much wine/port/mess silver/rsm wifes underwear as possible

    overcharging them when there pissed for drinks

    ps the rsm's wife underwear was a dare between a load of us no one managed it tho shame
  4. forgot to mention it also gives you some blackmail material especially good when applying for courses etc
  5. God, I havent laughed so much since that time in Ploce when our tent flooded for the 23rd time that week
  6. Being a well behaved lad in a Squadron full of psychos, I usually avoided getting in the sh*t too much. Well it was more that the bar was raised.

    Normal getting in the sh*t activities like showing up late or needing a hair chop barely registered on the badge's radar, when he had blokes drunk driving into the "Don't drink and Drive" mock up by the front gate.

    I managed to catch his attention only once in four years and got 7 days ROP's including a nights panbash in the Rodney's mess while there was a do on. I got stuck on with a mad lad from Birkenhead who was determined to make the time pass eventfully.

    Whilst we were scrubbing pots he managed to get me joining in with a song that he'd made up. Bobbins 90's smack taking combo Wet Wet Wet were doing their "I get by with a little help from my friends," Beatles cover on the radio, so he converted it to our circumstances and 'I get by with a little help from the wire wool' was born.

    My job was to join in on the chorus. As he screamed at the top of his voice

    "Do you Neeeeeed any Deepio"

    I simply replied,

    "I need some to bash this pan."

    We were having that much fun, we didn't notice the RSM stood behind us. Even by RSM standards he was a bit of a nosher. Nobody was allowed sideys except for him and he had a set that looked like he was being attacked by a pair of feral Yorkshire terriers.

    "Fcuking funny business is it lads? Don't forget your on fcuking ARR OH PEAS and you can have some more if you like."

    "Sorry, Sir."

    "Turn that fcuking radio off, and concentrate your energies on the removal of baked on sh-ite."


    Content that he'd made a miserable fcuking job even more fcuking miserable, he turned to leave. As he walked off, he slipped on a bit of grease and went down like a ton of bricks. We both slid across the floor to him and helped him up, both schnecking like good 'uns,

    "Are you alright, sir?"
    "Let me help you up, sir."

    He stood up all flustered and bogged off quickly. As he was leaving, I noticed that we'd accidentally put big, chip-fat handprints all over the arms and back of his mess dress.

    Served him right, the hairy cu-nt.
  7. The major units in the Garrison took it in turns to host the summer ball so you can just imagine the amount of black dogging that went on between the units. This as usual ended up with the majority of the unit having a working weekend whilst the rodneys had there ball.

    The biscuit was taken one year on Lille Green when in there wisdom they hired a fairground pikeys en all. Other than all the usal choas and robbing that went on, we conducted a concurrent background activity of drinking cider/plundered piss in the block after knocking ourself's off and taking it in turns in firing a black widow catapult at any moving targets.

    All went well till lenny smashed a truck window and a swarm of pikeys laid siege to the block!

    There was alwys a glut of posh totty much of it hired by young officers to impress, These freeloaders were left to wander when there charges had long since passed out after a sniff of the barmans apron!

    A true dicking but like everything else in the mob its what you make of it!
  8. Never waited on in the seven years I was in....thank feck. Not to say that i wasn't dicked for the duty but there was always a skint Jock or Geordie who was prepared to do the job for £20.

    I had a real problem with the whole 'waitng on' thing myself, no soldier should be expected to do it IMHO I saw it as degrading and a misuse of a soldiers skills.

    That said the forces have done it for years before I joined and (appear) to still do it so WTF do i know.

  9. Dont knock it till you have tried it mucka an ideal screen for payback and most of it well below the belt, and they had the stupidity to line you up at the end and applaud all the nasty things that you had just served on a silver platter!! :twisted:
  10. Totally in agreement with EggBanjo about the degrading part. Waited on on too many occasions to remember during my non-promotional days as a young tom.
    We have some young fillies from Sodexho who do the honours now and the bonus is that they regularly perform oral skills to the sexual predators in the mess after the function!

    Can't really complain though, I must have filched enough ale and spirits over the years to stock Threshers.

  11. Always saw you as a flier GCC and all!!
  12. I know what you mean, I recall seeing many of the lads being carried out of the various mess's all totally minging.......and plenty of scores were settled for sure. But............I could just not bring myself to do it, looking back now I was OK with general mess duties during the working day but pan bashing, waitering or barmen duties for a function........nope, sorry.

    ...........mind my high moral stance did not prevent me taking the phiss out of my brother who got dicked for 6mths Officers mess barman.......funny as feck :lol: .............Oi, barman.....wheres my beer, chop chop :lol:
  13. Only time I flew Harry was on the way to various shatholes around the globe.
  14. Did it many times, allways absolutely rat-arrsed by the end of an evening. Once spent entire evening slipping unwrapped pats of butter into a retired officers blazer pocket everytime I served a course or topped his wine up. He had been my OC, he was a Tw@

    Particular fave as a SNCO was Gunfire and waiting on in the Cookhouse on Christmas Day - fine memories of RSM in Drumadd, 1985 finishing the sentence "And this feckin year there will be NO FOOD FIGHT" in a barrage of mashed spud, stuffing balls and sprouts. Ruined his nice new Chrimbo Jumper. Priceless.

    Most recent was 2 months ago as a Subbie waiting on at a Corporals Mess Dinner (honest!) Imagine the latent revenge level that night.

    Back of my blouse was smeared with everything. Everytime I leaned into the table to dish out a bowl of soup or whatnot I got butterknifed or peas-n-gravied. One of my Section Commanders spent the entire evening referring to me as "Waitress, you did not fill my glass right up" etc etc what a pity that most of them were too pished to see what they were eating :) Subbies have such unhygenic kitchen behaviour ;)

    A fine tradition, may it long continue.
  15. Believe it or not they try this one on with STABs, too.

    In 1 WESSEX we were sent to Gloucester for a "Training Weekend" which started suspiciously late on Saturday. When we arrived we learnt that we were to be waiters for the Sergeant's Mess Summer Ball (which involved our SNCOs walting about in their Victorian mess kit). What a shoddy Nazi trick.

    In the regulars I suppose it's all part of the drill, but TA blokes don't fcuking like it, except for one or two brown-nosers who saw pulling pints for the PSIs as a networking opportunity. So, yes, of course we skiffed quite a lot of cutlery and shook up every fourth can of lager going behind the bar for a game of "Irish Roulette." If they'd asked for volunteers it wouldn't have been so bad. Tight b*stards didn't even have a whip-round for the boys.

    Later on that year we went to this crappy transit camp in Warminster for a week to do SA80 conversion. The officers had a very large and noisy party and the next morning about a half dozen Ptes were sent to clean up after them. Being a vile, gobby crow I led the revolt and we all refused point blank. I offered to leave then and there, after being nicked or whatever they wanted to do with me.

    Amazingly, they backed down. There was other stuff going on which meant that morale was shot to phuck so there was definitely an air of mutiny going about. Things like that really p*ssed me off about the TA... not so much the fatigue duty but the fact that so many of the TA officers and SNCOs seemed to enjoy being waited on so much.

    Transferred to Int in the end. What a bunch of gents; never had any problems like that ever again.