GARCON?? GARCON!!

NEVER A WAITER WHEN YOU NEED ONE

They’re off!!! And that man drinking is disqualified.

"Rude waiters" is an aspect of Paris life about which visitors often complain, while "stupid customers" loom large in the grumbles of those who wait tables. The conflict is probably insoluble. Waiters might be more patient if they were better recompensed in a chronically underpaid trade, while visitors who've contended with strange streets, sore feet and a raging thirst are disinclined to politeness when they desperately wish for a clean toilet and a stiff drink

           A chronic animosity towards waiters probably accounts for the relish with which Parisians have gathered periodically to observe the wobbling progress of a short, balding man with an apologetic moustache and wearing a white cotton jacket, as he weaves down a city street carrying a metal tray on which stands a bottle and two glasses. A few steps behind him trot dozens more, tall, short, young, old, but all similarly loaded and dressed.  Crowds line the sidewalk, some cheering, many jeering. They are spectators at another event in the crowded social life of Paris, its annual Course des Garcons de Café or Waiters’ Race.  

Dating back to 1914,  the race has usually taken place in April but some years formed part of the Bastille Day celebrations in July. From 1970, waitresses were admitted. By then, other cities in France and elsewhere had taken up the custom, only to see it falter, at least in Paris, around 2000, overwhelmed by the many other celebrations of the millennium. It resumed in 2011 but didn't survive the Covid lockdowns.

Now it’s back, scheduled for March 24^th.  Two hundred contestants, male and female, will take part. The water authority, Eau de Paris,  is providing the €100,000 sponsorship, which may explain why the runners will be carrying not wine, as was the case in the past, but a glass of water, a cup of coffee, and a croissant.

 Traditionally, the tray must be held in one hand only. Two hands are permitted only to steady items, and then for no more than three paces, while employing chewing gum to hold bottle and glass is strictly forbidden. Prizes are usually substantial but the real winner is the café that employs the first past the post. Having them on the staff, like being the first to offer Beaujolais Nouveau, attracts business. The winner of the competition for the boulanger producing the best baguette receives a contract to supply bread to the presidential palace for a year.

Each competitor will wear a white shirt, dark trousers and an apron - supplied by the sponsors, presumably to curb the tendency towards levity that has turned the annual Paris marathon into a fancy dress parade, with runners dressed as a boot, an apple, a banana, a pineapple, the Eiffel Tower and a rhinoceros, not to mention an assortment of cartoon and TV characters, from Spongebob Squarepants to Batman.  

The two-kilometre route will wind through the Marais, ending at the Hotel de Ville, the Town Hall.  There are cities in which the course would be less significant but this is not one of them. Road surfaces vary. Belgian Block cobblestones from the days before Haussmann alternate with the granite cubes that replaced them, and in some areas a layer of asphalt shuffles three surfaces into foot-tangling confusion. It only needs one competitor to lose concentration and stumble for a dozen to go down too. A shame, of course. But quite a few spectators who’ll turn out in the hope of seeing everything end in a confusion of curses, broken glass and rolling metal trays.