Knowing One's Place
In about 1992, I went to an official Cocktail Party in Durbar Court, the very posh atrium area at the Foreign Office.
On arrival, it all seemed a bit quiet and very little actvity for so close to kick-off. Enter Stage left the organiser with hair afire. Apparently the 'events manager' or whatever had been dismissed summarily and his final act of revenge was to cancel the additional staff due to serve at the event, leaving only the resident few to cope.
This was a call to arms and six or eight of us swung into action!! Drinks trays first, then the nibbles, then - oh great joy - getting into the room where all the back-up booze was waiting. End result, one of the best cocktail parties I ever been at. My 2*, who always called me 'Chris' - to which I answered of course - actually got my name right: but then his glass was almost empty at the time and I had the full bottle (of drink that is!).
O-D