Punter Highlights

Punter: noun. People, patrons; like people who go to pubs.
"Who is that guy at the bar?"
"Oh, he's just some punter."
I am not sure that that definition is entirely correct, but it is for the purpose of this post.

Thursday night C catered a dinner for 65 Spanish people in the pub. The Spaniards were in Cambridge to learn English in order to go back to Spain and teach other people English. Which was funny, because the whole night they would come up to the bar and order "a haLf of Foster" (they pronounced the L) rather than "a half of Fosters." C served a horrible (stereotypically English maybe?) dinner of over-steamed carrots and broccoli and fingerling potatoes and what should have been steak and mushroom pie but was really a ladle of stew-ish filling poured onto a plate already containing the veg and topped with a square of puff pastry. At leas the pudding was nice, rhubarb trifle that we (the staff) got to eat too. Nice but cold and rich for the excessive portions that we ate.
C was in full C-mode: she ranted at the woman who organized the dinner for not making the vegetarians easier to find (what was she going to do? sequester them at their own table? tag them with neon yellow spray-paint? C is nuts) and once the dinner was completely served she got drunk (level-headed drunk, not messy or obnoxious).
The diners, on the other hand, sang. First, some woman sang "Think of Me" from The Phantom of the Opera, all opera-style with hand-gestures and funny jerky movements. It was fucking hilarious, unfortunately no one else has my sense of humor and so I had to laugh on the inside, which was difficult. Then they ALL sang some Spanish songs. Followed by (of course) "My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean" ("Breeeeng back, breeng back, Oh breeng back my Bonnee to me to me") and various Beatles tunes (Yesterday, Yellow Submarine, that was good). Then they put their arms around each other and danced a nice cancan. I once walked into the loo to find two women rehearsing another duet (duly sung). C, by this time 7 or 8 gin and tonics under (she's a bit of a hardened drinker), put some Abba on the stereo and they pushed the tables to the sides of the room and turned it into a disco. It was fun. I dislike disco as a rule, but I admit that it has its place and time. It was also fun because Spanish people are "civilized" when it comes to drinking (KT and Will's word for it, meaning they drank lots of halves very slowly and were jolly rather than ill-behaved).
Meanwhile, the water polo team came in and stood around the bar uncomfortably. They were drawn, I imagine, to the fun that the Spaniards were having but were too uptight to join the party. Lewis (or L as I should call him) came in and looked horribly uncomfortable and out of his element and we laughed at him. Then C, S, and I (tv reference is unintentional) hung out and had a few drinks after the pub closed. Was nice.

Last night, Sunday night, there was no one in the pub except for the 20 members of a rugby club from one of the Cambridge University clubs. They drank something like 12 pitchers of lager (we ran out of both Kronenburg and Fosters) in addition to drinks that they purchased separately. My boss came down to walk his dog, looked at the group, looked at me (the only person behind the bar), said "Have fun" and went back upstairs.
Actually, it was ok. Usually I feel really vulnerable when interacting with packs of British males because they are more interested in their mates' opinion of them than in being decent people and will sacrifice your dignity without a second thought if they think it will get them a laugh. Instead, these kids were nice and mopped up their own spills (as in "hiya, do you have a mop we could use? We spilled a little beer and don't want anyone to slip") and said please and thank you and were polite. I also got a kick out of being chatted up by tipsy 19-year-olds.
Conversations like:
Punter Lad: What part of the states are you from?
Our Hero: California, near San Francisco
PL: Really? I've never been there, been to LA though. I am half American, my mum is from Georgia.
OH: Really? neat.
PL: So I've really only been to the East Coast and LA, they're like, different countries!
OH: It's true!
(The kid who played PL in this conversation [yes, this conversation actually happened, it's not a dramatization] proceeded to say "totally!" a lot the rest of the night, something that I don't hear British people say a lot, though I don't interact much with British youth in a social capacity, so how would I know).
I left before they did, and had to suppress an urge to pat them all on the head and tell them that they were good lads.

Side note: Every time I say that I am from California, the person I am talking to remarks, aghast: "And you came HERE? WHY?!?"