Not at hall bad

Earlier this term I got roped into waiting in hall for the matriculation lunch. At the time the automatic response of having too much work didn’t actually apply so I acquiesced and went to work.

This was my chance to shine! I’d always assumed that you had to be some sort of legacy at Catz to be able to do it but here I was donning my uniform and getting ready to wait some tables.

Catz’s 13th century hall

Matriculation lunch is a baptism of fire and thrill was comparable to your first tute or taking part in the RAG bungee jump

Sidling down the aisle with people I just about recognize chorusing “I didn’t know you worked in hall!?”. I felt like a great everyman, serving the people with my undying fealty.

That they’d each had 7 sherries seemed off the point.  That we were able to drink that and the rest afterward should probably be off the record.

#Haller

But it’s not all minesweeping sherry and the admiration of your peers. It can be hard work. There are times when you have to eat all the free food alone in the large, dark, and empty hall.

As a noob I inadvertently smashed some glasses and a seasoned veteran of hall looked through me with his thousand-yard stare as if to say, “Welcome to the jungle, bitch”. It was a like a warzone.

For me, the greatest perk of the job is the spoils. After a hard evening of serving the hall you’re allowed to scavenge the leftovers. This supplements the mid to low pay with what is essentially an all you can eat buffet.

Some spoils

My mother was pleased to hear that I’d started hall. “Ah yes” she said “Honest work might prevent you from becoming just another Oxford Tosser.”

While appreciating the sentiment, I still have to wear a bow tie.