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.