PARIS — Usain Bolt's short-distance world record was never in jeopardy. Then again, even the world's fastest human being couldn't run this fast without balancing a croissant, a coffee cup, and a tray of water and spilling all over the streets of Paris. It would be.
The French capital on Sunday revived a 110-year-old competition between waiters and waitresses. The dash in central Paris celebrated men and women famous for being deft and, yes, by their own admission, sometimes moody. Without them France would not be France.
why? Because they enliven French cafes and restaurants. Without them, where would the French gather to defend their rights to drink and food in the world? Where do they quarrel and fall (and fall) in love? And where else can they just sit and let their minds wander? They are so attached to the unassuming watering hole that has nourished body and soul for generations that they write songs and poems about their “bistros”.
Lyricist and poet Georges Brassens sang, “It's where people find their wonderful flowers,'' but it was also a place where “all their misery brings down their luck.''
So, drumroll please. Pauline Van Wymersch and Sammy Lamorousse, the newly crowned fastest waitresses and waiters in Paris, and ambassadors for an important profession in France.
And there is a big job ahead. It's about taking food orders and quenching the thirst of millions of tourists flocking to the Paris Olympics this July.
The return of the waiter's race after a 13-year hiatus is part of the city's efforts to capture the Olympic spotlight and look its best for the first Summer Olympics in 100 years.
The first waiters race was held in 1914. This time, hundreds of waiters and waitresses wore uniforms, sported their finest bow ties, and loaded trays with prescribed pastries and small (but empty) coffees. The 2-kilometer (1 1/4-mile) loop starts and ends at City Hall and requires a glass of water and a glass of water.
Van Wymersch, who won the women's competition with a time of 14 minutes and 12 seconds, started serving as a server at the age of 16 and is now 34, but said she could not imagine her life any other way.
“I love it so much that I hate it. It's in my skin. “I can't walk away from this job,” she said of the profession. “It's hard. It's tiring. It's hard. It's 12-hour days. There's no weekends. There's no Christmas.”
But, she added, “It's part of my DNA. I kind of grew up with a tray in my hand.” “I have been shaped in life and work by my bosses, my clients, and all the people I have met who have nurtured me.”
Van Wymeersch works at Le Petit Pont, a cafe and restaurant facing Notre Dame Cathedral. Lamoureux, who won the men's race with a time of 13 minutes and 30 seconds, is waiting at La Contrescalpe in the 5th arrondissement of Paris. Their prize was a medal, two tickets each to the July 26 Olympic opening ceremony on the banks of the Seine, and a night out at a hotel in Paris.
Everyone was smiling here, but competitors acknowledged that's not always the case when you're scrambling to get up at work. While in other countries the customer may always be right, in France waiters and waitresses have the final say, contributing to their reputation as brusque, moody, and sometimes rude. .
“The pride of the French people is that they don't want to be trampled on in such a small profession,” said Thierry Petit, 60, who will retire in April after 40 years on the waiting list. .
“It's not a lack of respect, but rather a state of mind,” he says. Switching to English, he added: “It sounds very French.”
The capital's mayor, Anne Hidalgo, said cafes and restaurants were “the very soul of Paris”.
“The bistro is a place where we go to meet people, a place where we go to have a quick coffee or a drink, a place where we go to discuss and love each other and embrace each other,” she said.
“Cafes and bistros are life.”