When I was in college, I earned extra money on the weekends as a catering waiter. It was as terrible as "Party Down" would have you believe, the entire feeling of the experience summed up in an exchange that happened during a wedding reception. That night, things already weren't going well, as I accidentally burned one of the staff captains with boiling water before guests had even arrived. Toward the end of the evening, after dinner plates had been cleared, and we were busily refilling coffee -- a task that I approached with trepidation since I had already scalded someone only hours earlier -- my mounting exhaustion quickly shifted to anger when one of the male guests turned to me with a tipsy smirk and said, "C'mon honey, why don't you smile?"
I forced a closed-mouth grin and continued making my way around his table.