It's the owner's significant birthday, and there will be a party held at his estate in the country. On our day off, which is a bit cruel, but when else would it be held?
The owner's girlfriend, the latest, most legitimate heir to the remaining estate, she's invited us all. G*** declines, he's got a prior engagement with his girlfriends father. The soon to be father-in-law. So it's up to the new Italian waiter and I to shoulder the politic responsibility, it's a bit awkward, we're more the feudal serfs, the employees, but it would be political suicide to miss it, and so we grudgingly agree. An hour, two tops...
Sunday comes and we're both pretty hung over, the night before was Halloween. But I pick him up in the bone-jarring screeching wreck of an automobile, it's very last legs and this jaunt into the countryside isn't the least bit wise, not at all, but it's gotta be done...
We arrive late, as planned. Arrive late, leave early. There are perhaps 30, 40 other guests, all regular customers at the restaurant, adding them all up, net worth, anywhere from half a billion to a billion dollars...
There's J***, 100 million easy, G****, maybe 2 or 3 million, they don't get along, there's a variety of land barons and other characters, quickly do the math...
And there are a few, like the girlfriend and her children, who add up to debt, and there's the new Italian waiter and myself, he's worth a couple of grand easy, me, I'm another debit on the account...
I see J***, demand a glass of wine, it's nice, this hospitality role reversal, he gets it, laughs, obliges, gives me the name and grape. And for an hour or so we chat and socialize, some are cool, recognize me (but I don't them, we have a lot of customers, laugh, play along), some resent the bridging the gap, clearly we, the staff, are overstepping the boundaries by attending this party...the Owner, he's hospitable and charming, we admire his place, his palace, a castle of sorts in the wilds of Calgary, he's a trophy room filled with the kills he's made all over Alberta, the territories, a hundred different animals all stuffed and mounted, it's impressive, where's Alberta's wildlife? Why, it's all dead in *****'s kill room...
We pass the obligatory time, socialize according to our inclination, it's a bit like work, but less service and freer with the drinks and food. And when we're done we escape, politic goals achieved, it's a different world, and we're both glad to be returning...