As a student I worked in a hotel in Devon. We waiters worked in pairs, sharing a work station, and my partner was an Italian called Giorgio. He wasn't the brightest Italian you ever met, but he was nice enough and we got on all right.
The worst job of the day was clearing up after breakfast. There was just so much stuff that had to be taken out to where Reg was doing the washing up: main plates, side plates, cups and saucers, coffee pots, milk jugs, sugar bowls, butter dishes, marmalade dishes and all the cutlery that went with it. We had big trays about a metre long and it would take two or three journeys to clear the lot.
Giorgio bet the other Italians we worked with that he could load all our breakfast stuff on to one tray and carry it all out in one go. They all laughed and took the bet. We students stood back and waited for the fun to start. I was perfectly happy to let Giorgio clear away my tables.
He put the tray on top of the work station and started loading. Big plates, side plates, saucers all went in one big pile. Everything else he piled up as high as he could and I must say we were surprised that he got it all on to the one tray.
He took hold of one end of the tray and started easing it off the station far enough to get his shoulder under it. Knees bent, he took the strain and lifted it clear. And that was when his fatal error was revealed.
The pile of plates and saucers was at the end of the tray that was now behind his head. And much heavier than the other end. The tray somersaulted off his shoulder and the whole lot ended up on the carpet: plates etc, some of which weren't broken; butter, marmalade and sugar, and a scattering of coffee grounds and tea leaves.
Oh how we laughed.
I think I actually helped him clear up. And from then on there was no more talk of doing it on his own.
Why am I telling you this? It just came into my head this week and thought you would be amused.