So now I’ve told you about SRK and the exclusive world of social networking, it’s high time to mention another, all together different aspect of my life pre-christmas.

By day, I worked chez SRK, by night, I schmoozed with the rich and famous – satisfying them with mulled wine and designer canapes.

Now most of us have probably worked in a bar or a restaurant at some point in our lives, but there is nothing quite comparable to working in events. Every job is unique, in a different venue, with different people and a fresh dollop of gossip.

I’ve worked at charity do’s, funerals, carol concerts, birthday bashes and some fairly spectacular Christmas parties. I’ve done events for snobbish bankers, Zimbabwean hunters, trendy film makers and even rampant lawyers, (yes, I did walk into a pair of barristers ‘getting it on’).

I’ve worked with the well-to-do in South Kensington and I’ve worked amongst earnest Guardian readers in Islington. I’ve served chipolatas to vintage clock enthusiasts, Parisian art dealers and even the Archbishop of Canterbury. But my most enduring memory as a waitress had to be dressing up as a Hopak dancer for a Russian Inspired extravaganza.

I discovered a number of things as I waitressed my way across London:

1. There’s always a secret shag at a Christmas party.

2. Parisian and Italian women won’t touch canapes.

3. English women are the first to tuck into a plate of sausages.

4.  People that work in catering, work bloody hard and are jolly nice

5. If you keep smiling, you can get away with any number of spillages or breakages. Just.

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