People lightly brushed passed in formal attire, their hair combed smooth, their faces dimly lit by the over hanging lanterns which reflected a slight glow off of everything, causing eyes to look a bit brighter and smiles slightly wider.
Children clung to their mother's sides and were constantly having a small plate of unusual looking food placed in their hands which they ate carefully, wondering what the weird concoctions were.
Chef's hats poked up among the crowds as their steamy dishes sent waves of mist into the air followed by a pleasing odor.
The hum of band music was heard int he background amidst all of the mumbling conversations and bursts of laughter.
I stood among them all, holding a silver platter, attempting to smile and act normal.
A large crow was wanting to pass through the bustling swarms of people and reach a table ornately filled with samples of a fancy dish of food so I politely stepped aside, still holding the same plastered smile.
I suddenly noticed a couple in front of me each holding small, empty paper plates as they took the last bites from their food.
Nervously, I advanced, "May I take your plate, sir?" I asked softly, holding up the silver platter bashfully.
"Oh, yes, thank you," He said, turning round and placing his sauce-stained plate on it. His wife did the same with the same surprised thank you and nod.
Turning around, I walked about three steps away and threw away the plates.
Yes, literally, only three steps away, which explained why I was often left standing most of the night without a job as people threw away their own paper plates and left me feeling absolutely useless.
Now, I suppose I might as well tell you where I am and why on earth I am busing tables for a place where people don't even need it.
My mom signed us up for a charity dinner, held by the Cancer Research Society (I think...). Anyway, we volunteered to help bus tables and make sure each individual booth was always furnished with ample plates, napkins, and forks.
Not much work, I can tell you.
Most of the evening I was standing in the middle of small crowds of people, awkwardly attempting to act the part of a waitress (or whatever you want to call me) when the reality was, people could vary well throw their own things away in the garbage cans which were openly placed everywhere.
But, as distasteful as this may sound, I assure you the pay far surpasses the pain (if there is any..). You see, since we were volunteers we were allowed to gorge ourselves with as many of the samples as we pleased.
The food was superbly fancy: fish, ribs, sushi as you never tasted them. Decedent pieces of delicious crumbs you would have to spend pocketfuls to get in an actual restaurant.
Yet, the desserts were the peak of it all. I don't even know what most of it was, but it was delicious!
And did I mention the chocolate fountain? Feel free to drizzle marshmallows, strawberries, pretzels, or bananas in the chocolaty rain of delight!
It was a really fun, tasty night filled with new experiences which I hope to re-live again soon.
The only problem was, something kept beating against my mind like a never-ending bouncy ball during most of the evening.
I'll explain: here come crowds of women, in their beautiful formal dresses with their hair prettily shimmering, wearing dinner sandals; and then here stands Kimberly wearing Nike sneakers, black bermudas, and an oversized white t-shirt advertising the Relay for Life (the t-shirt was the uniform we were assigned).
But I kept thinking of the fancy dress I had worn during the masquerade party! Finally, a place where you can dress formally and look normal, and I am wearing something equivalent to ugly pj's!
The irony of life.
But I can't deny that the evening still was wonderful. Just douse it with a bit of chocolate from that glorious fountain and I would say it was perfect.