Workin' Girl.

After much delay, I will finally tell you all about my new job! Are you exploding with anticipation about what it is? Am I working at Bond University’s “CET”? Have I been signed as a pro surfer, practicing for the Quicksilver Pro next month? Am I serving fries at Macca’s? (What is Macca’s you ask? See my mate Natalie's blog to find out.)

No. While I’m still working toward the Quicksilver Pro, my job is of a slightly different variety. 

                                                     

Welcome to Skilled Park, home of the Gold Coast Titans rugby team and the Gold Coast United soccer team. Brand new and beautiful, it opened in March 2008 and can hold almost 28,000 screaming fans. I work for Michael O’Brien Catering as a steward up in the corporate suites. Pretty sweet, huh? No pun intended. Well, maybe.

But my first shift was last night, February 13th for the most anticipated season opener! It commenced with an All Star game, which was interesting because our All Star games are usually in the middle of a season. And also because the teams were divided by… race? Yes. Very strange. 

It was the Indigenous All Stars vs. The NRL (National Rugby League) All Stars and this confused the heck out of me. I was like, “So Kat, you’re trying to tell me that the aboriginals can’t even play in the same league as the rest of Australian rugby players? And she said, “No they do play in the same league, they just segregate for this All Star game.” My mouth was gaping. She’s like, “It’s not a big deal. It’s just like if the rest of a league played a game against an all Native American team.” Nat responded with, “Yeah, except that would never happen. That’s pretty racist.” I guess Australians seem to think it celebrates diversity. We just couldn’t wrap our heads around it.

Regardless, the turn out was HUGE and everyone had an awesome time - including me! I was in charge of my own suite that can hold up to twenty people. I was pretty nervous, but I knew that I’d be fine as long as I was polite and charming. I was just hoping that my clients were nice. And for the past two seasons, Suite 10 has been inhabited by ABC Brick Sales, a corporate sponsor of the Gold Coast Titans. So donned in black pants, black flats, white button-down, skinny black neck tie, black vest and black apron, I served and befriended a suite of fifteen to twenty men over the age of 35 for about five hours. Hate to brag, but they loved me. I was a big hit.

At first, I felt like my job was pretty awkward. As long as everyone had their drinks and was content, I kind of just stood there. I felt as though my job was to be invisible. However, I came to discover throughout the evening that that is not the case. 

My number one responsibility is to be the refrigerator warden. No one is to open that door except for me. They aren’t allowed to even open a bottle of water on their own. So I stood my post by the fridge, bottle opener in hand, ready and eager to serve. I would list off the beers, wines, spirits and sodas we had available for them, and I was to serve it to them on a fancy tray. Now there’s a trick I need to get used to. I did fine, I didn’t spill red wine on anyone, but it’ll definitely take practice! Someone who isn’t even allowed to drink in the states yet was in charge of all alcohol in the room. Not all of the married men with children. How’s that for a power trip? That’s right gentlemen. I run this show, thank you very much. 

As the night went on, I served them their burgers, their fries, and their halftime snacks, and they all loosened up a bit. Then it was, “Cassandra, love, can you bring me another Bourbon and Coke please darlin’? You’re the best. Isn’t she the best? Where would we be without her?” I don’t know, Darby. A lot more sober, I suppose? But in all seriousness, no one was out of control. I have my RSA license for the state of Queensland (Responsible Service of Alcohol) so I was trained not to serve to anyone who is “unduly intoxicated, disorderly or under 18” and also trained how to cut them off if they’ve crossed the line. And in all honesty, they were a sports crowd. I’m not at all threatened or uncomfortable around gruff men like that (have you met Paul Soucy?) so I know that when they start goofing off, you need to just toss it right back. We had a ball.

They asked all about Boston, about Uni, about surfing, about school back home, about my friends, my family, if I abandoned a boyfriend back in the states, what I’d do if I fell in love in Australia… you know. The usual. I informed them that I’m on strict orders by my parents not to fall in love in Australia, so that wouldn’t be happening. Then one of them (late twenties) said he would convince me otherwise. Then I took his drink away and he begged for forgiveness. Problem solved. I’ve got this under control. 


Also, something funny about working up in the corporate suites is that there are tons of famous people around evidently. So they tell me. Because I don't know who any of them are, which is quite funny. After a gentleman left our suite, one of the guys turned to me and asked, "Do you know who that was?" And I said, "Nope, not a clue. Is he a big deal?" And they said, "Uhh, yeah, that was Bernard Fanning, the lead singer of the band Powerfinger." Ooooh good. Good to know. I had heard Powderfinger on the inflight radio on my way to this fair nation, and the band has gone platinum a few times over. I Wiki'd them when I got home. But I'm sure that he appreciated me treating him just like everyone else, right? I'm sure it will be interesting being oblivious to rock stars in my midst.

All in all, I was initially nervous but by the end of the night, I considered those guys to be good mates. I hope that I am permanently assigned to Suite 10 for the whole season and they hope so too :) They were singing my praises all night and said they “appreciated their Bostonian who mixes them a good strong Scotch.” Well, I am to please. Responsibly, that is.

Shift number one was a big success, and I take in a whopping $18.31 an hour to befriend these wealthy blokes. Not too shabby, hey? Minimum wage over here is $17/hr so I’m doing quite well for myself. Massachusetts, make note.

Here’s a little taste of the action.

To see more (which you definitely want to, these pictures are great) click here.