Now, this is a post for laughter - not for whining - but also to prove that, yes, it's true! The guy with the long moustaches is always the villain.
Bill the Butcher...
The Purple Pie Man. You get the point.
I arrive and he fails to tell me there is a loading zone. He gets me a parking space that's the equivalent of several long city blocks away from the event space.
Now, if you're ever done events or even been to an event, you'll note that there are things to bring - in this case, packets of info, pens, fliers, etc. Which makes for a very heavy box.
Halfway to my destination from the faraway lot, thinking my arms are going to snap like twigs, I flag down a guy with a little cart and beg for help. (This, after several people who have seen me struggling to carry the box discreetly look away and keep walking.)
Luckily, he is the guy bringing the food to my event. (Note: the trays of food weigh less than my box, and he has a cart! I only have arms. How does this happen?)
I get there and Mr. Twirly Moustache, who was supposed to meet me, is a no-show. The signs that are supposed to be outside directing people to the event are also MIA.
And of course, I have left my phone in the car.
I run back and when I get there, my volunteers still aren't there - because there are no signs, and they're totally lost.
45 minutes after he is supposed to have met me, a pissed-off looking Mr. Twirly Moustache appears and tells me, "I dropped everything because I got a call that you wanted to see me!"
I ask him where the signs are.
"They got rained on."
Hello. This is the NORTHWEST, in WINTER. There is rain virtually every day. Why didn't he put them in plastic?
Did I mention the room is also set up exactly the way I asked him not to set it up? And that they forgot to give us silverware?
I am not making this up. I wanted to unroll those windy moustaches and give them a good hard yank.
Fortunately, the event itself was a success and our members were happy, even if they had to eat with their fingers.
But the moral of the story is...if you see twirly moustaches, run. Don't say I didn't warn you.