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Local woman Bridie Keating used to be a waitress. In fact, she used to be a bartender too.

Despite her stint in hospitality lasting for a total of six months, Bridie likes to mention it as much as possible to make herself more relatable. 

This is mainly because she now works a high paying job and battles the constant stab of guilt many people from working-class families feel after breaking the mould – though she could hardly consider herself a class traitor, considering she hasn’t yet adopted a holier than thou attitude or developed any awful opinions about social welfare.

However, as annoying as Bridie’s constant hospo stories can be for her mates, there’s nothing wrong with being more considerate.

Especially when visiting a busy restaurant that looks to be understaffed.

It’s alleged Bridie had visited the local tavern from a parmy special when her mates had simply scrunched their napkins onto the plates and got up to leave, incurring a gentle scolding from Bridie.

“No no, you do it like this”, says Bridie, scraping all the food onto one plate, “it makes it easier for the waitress to carry.”

Wrinkling her nose at a half-drunk schooner with a coaster wedged inside it, Bridie mutters something about being uncouth as she assembles a Jenga tower of towering plates.

More to come.

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