Serving hors devours at the Country Club, the trick was to sneak through the pantry and snatch one of those lovely little filet pieces of heaven and pop it into your mouth.
Same method worked when passing wine.
We worked many a night buzzed out of our gords. And that doesn't even take into consideration the nights of big parties where a bunch of us would cruise the golf course on the kitchen's golf cart: smoking and being tossed around in the back of the club car.
Good times. Good times.