Finally,
some time to write the rubbish that happens in my life. I seem to be in a phase
where there is to be no significant travelling for a while. And though this is
a very sad thing for me, I did recently make it up to Victoria Falls, and I
shall be having adventures of a different kind shortly.
I have
decided to venture into the world of business. Yes, I know I am crazy. But I
figure I have started and run enough businesses for other people that I should
be able to do it for myself. Hmmm...
More on that later.
In the mean
time, I was reminded when trying to explain to a friend why I don’t have a
smart phone anymore, of one of the reasons that I have decided to leave the
world of events behind me for a while. I currently work for a company that runs
and caters about 25 events a week. We have three event coordinators. Basically,
you won’t have an event coordinator at your event unless you are willing to pay
extra. Usually we send a waiter supervisor, and a head chef to run the catering
side (as there is generally also a bar manager and a venue manager on site).
For this
particular wedding, we sent a chef, a manager and a staffing manager. The only
person not on site was me, the initial event contact. Why? Because I had booked
the day off long before the client had even heard of us, and I was due to be on
a party bus, drinking mojitos and celebrating the 2nd anniversary of
my friends 30th Birthday.
That is
exactly what I proceeded to do. About an hour into the bus ride (and three
double strength mojito punch glasses down) the manager calls.
Manager:
Miss P, the bride is going nuts, we don’t have the right champagne.
Me: Of
course you do, I delivered it to the venue myself yesterday afternoon, and put
it in the fridge.
Manager: No,
you can’t have, because it’s not there.
Me: Look
harder.
I then
proceeded to have three more mojitos. The bus broke down, so we had an extra
shot of rum. Then my phone rang again.
Manager:
Miss P, there is no champagne here at all! There is only the cheap stuff, and
the bride is furious and almost in tears and the barman doesn’t know what to
do!
Me: Yesh,
it’sh definitely there. I promish, I delivered it myshelf *hic* and I put it in
the frid- frid – uh... fiddidge-y thingy.
Manager: Are
you drunk?
Me: YESH!
Now go away
The bus got
moving again, so we had an extra shot of tequila to celebrate. It took a really
long time to get over the mountain pass, so naturally, when it reached the top,
we had a a shot of Jaegermeister to
celebrate.
My phone
rang again, and as I looked blearily through fuzzy eyes, I spied the name of
the bride. I briefly considered answering it, realised I couldn’t actually
articulate anything other than a faint gurgle and some woop woop sounds, and
simply tossed the phone, still ringing, out the window of the bus.
Two days
later, when I had recovered from my hangover, I went back to the venue to see
what the hell had happened. There, in the bar, blocking one whole side of the
access hatch, was the champagne. The storeman had very helpfully placed the
chilled wine in the bar, ready to serve for guest arrival, and the barman had
spent the entire wedding carefully stepping over the boxes as he ran to the
walk in fridge for the cheap stuff.
