The doors open. They come streaming in, pushing and shoving each other (almost flattening the poor soul who was unlucky enough to unlock the door) There is a feeling of desperation in the air, one can almost smell it!

I look at the worming mass of bodies and want to run. This is not an option, however.... I've got a job to do. My plan is to try to herd them into groups so that I can deal with them in a civilized manner, but I soon realize that I'm powerless.

Plan B: Stand back, watch and wait. Let them struggle with each other. When they've calmed down, then I can get down to business!

Four hours later, I'm finally finished and have time to take a smoke and relax. I go through this every day and I can't really say why I'm surprised every time. It makes me wonder...... why did I become a waiter!