Seriously. I’m usually the first to complain about ass kissers, but I feel like there are certain times in one’s life when one’s ass ought to be thoroughly kissed. Kissed so much it becomes raw and chapped and suffers from a severe case of stubble burn. And one of those times is when you’re potentially going to drop thousands of dollars in someone’s lap. Let me explain:
I’ve been planning my wedding off and on for a few months now, and I’m baffled by the attitudes I’ve received from many venue representatives. I’m not talking about little things like delays in getting back to me, although I’ve had my fair share of those experiences. No, I’m talking about those people who seem completely put out that they even have to deal with my inquiry in the first place – Those people who, even by the tone of their e-mails, are rolling their eyes and heaving exasperated sighs over how I dared ask such completely outlandish questions like, oh I don’t know, the rental cost? Whether I can have a tour? Whether they have availability on a few select dates?
Here’s a perfect example. A few weeks back I attempted to contact a local venue in a large city park. After waiting a couple of weeks with no response, I sent a second e-mail and attached the first. Three days later, I finally heard back with an invitation to visit the site during business hours (11-5). The response was sent after hours, around 6:00 pm.
The following day (yesterday), I sent a reply at 7:00 pm asking whether it would be possible to visit the site today around lunch. Now, I was well aware that I was e-mailing after hours and that there was a very good chance my message would not be viewed until this morning, but I sent it on the off-chance that the rep checked her e-mail outside of work, and I based this possibility on the fact that her reply to me was sent after hours.
Today, I received this response around 1:30 pm:
Sorry, I could not get back to you earlier. We are here from 11 am to 5 pm today. I would have phoned you if I had a number.
That’s it. No “hello,” no signature line, no nothing. Just a snarky last line pushing the blame on me for not having the foresight to give her my number. For starters, I tend not to willy-nilly hand out my number to any sort of wedding industry rep because those people are often relentless if they sense the slightest bit of actual interest. But I shouldn’t have been worried here since clearly this woman isn’t at all concerned with offending me – You know, the person who is inquiring about spending THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS to rent her site for a FEW HOURS.
Nevertheless, I responded somewhat politely:
It’s perfectly okay – Things got pretty busy for me anyway. Are you available this coming Tuesday around 4:15?
My number is XXX-XXX-XXXX if you need to reach me by phone.
And she replied:
YES, THAT WILL BE FINE. SEE YOU ON TUESDAY.
OMG. Why are you YELLING at me?!?!?
So, partially in an effort to grate on her nerves and partially because I honestly had no idea where I was going and I hate driving around like an idiot and ending up parked in the wrong place, I asked:
Great – I know where the mansion is just by driving past – Is parking right there as well?
And she said:
Yes, you can park in our parking lot.
I can just hear the “OBVIOUSLY, dumbass” left untyped at the end of that sentence, can’t you?
SIGH. Maybe I’ll just pitch a tent in my driveway and invite people over for hot dogs and beer.
So I was supposed to go back to Georgia next week to help my parents after my dad’s hip replacement. Turns out the trip is being postponed because my dad’s surgeon had to have an emergency appendectomy over the weekend.
I was talking to my mom about the change of plans, and my dad was in the background:
Dad – Tell her we’ll cover the cost of the flight if she has to change it.
Me – I got trip insurance. Dad was on the phone with me when I booked it. He suggested the insurance.
Mom – She got the insurance.
Dad – (muttering)
Mom – He thought that was just for if the plane crashed.
Me – WHAT?!?!? What the hell good would THAT do me????
Mom – Hahahahaha!!!!
Me – THANKS, DAD.
Mom – Well, you know, that might be a good kind of thing to get too.
I think I’m under too much stress.
I believe this theory is amply supported by a brief summary of my dreams for the past few nights:
Something tells me the kids next door have seen one too many Law & Order SVU episodes:
So…..here goes. I’m a little anxious as I set out on my first blog post. I don’t really know what I to say, but I know I have a lot of crazy shit rumbling around in my head, and it’d be nice to get it out of there and down on “paper” and maybe, along the way, I’ll realize I’m not the only one thinking this stuff. Or maybe not. We’ll have to see how it goes. Either way, I hope it’s at least entertaining to someone.
I guess the best way to kick this off would be to introduce myself: I’m a 34-year old reluctant attorney, meaning I’m not 100% sure how I ended up in this profession, but I’m definitely sure it was the wrong choice. Also, seeing “34” in writing is a little disconcerting as I still think somewhere around “28” in my head whenever someone asks my age. This point was driven home the other day when a co-worker casually mentioned that I was 20 years away from needing my first colonsocopy (don’t ask), and I corrected her that it was more like 16. And then it occurred to me that meant I was 16 years away from 50, and I had a minor heart attack in my cubicle.
Aside from being a reluctant attorney who is 16 years from needing a colonoscopy, I’m also an avid amateur photographer. My friends say I’m “award-winning,” which is technically true, but I feel weird claiming that title since the only awards I’ve won are from contests at local nature centers (although I have to say the competition has been fierce lately). I love to travel and have been fortunate enough to see a good part of the world, although there’s far more left to see. I’ve also lived in three different countries (Italy, Spain, and the United States), although I only really remember the time I spent in the latter two. I was born in Milan, Italy, and spent the first 2.5 years of my life in a town called Monticello, but I don’t really remember any of it. Most of my earliest memories are from my adopted home state of Georgia, where I lived through high school (aside from a short stint in Madrid, Spain). After high school, I went to college in North Carolina, and then moved to my current home in New Jersey (in case it’s not as obvious as I think it is….hence, the title of this blog).
I ended up in New Jersey because of a guy. Yeah, yeah….I know that’s never the smartest reason to move, particularly when it involves moving from a lovely Southern state full of wide open, clean spaces, to a crowded, dirty state, but it all worked out since I’m now engaged to the guy. We’ve been together for years and plan on getting married soon, although I keep putting off the planning process. One of these days, I’m just going to drag him to City Hall and be done with it. (Note: He’s paranoid about blogs and Facebook and EZ-pass and anything else that could let Big Brother or random psychos into our lives, so I’ll just call him “the guy” for now until I get around to coming up with a pseudonym).
Let’s see….Other than that, we share our house with our two cats, Trixie and Bailey, and we both work far too much. Left to my own devices, I’d have a house full of cats and dogs, and I’d probably end up one of those old ladies they find on the floor surrounded by starving pets who are about two hours from feasting on the body. So I guess it’s good that I’m not left to my own devices.
And now I find myself here. I need an outlet and a hobby – A place to vent so my friends can be spared more e-mail rants, and a place to share those crazy thoughts in my head that I kinda hope I’m not alone in having. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!