Did we forget something…?

It was my first event.  November 7, 1998.  I was a venue owner!  I owned my own business!  We had worked so hard to renovate our 1913 historic home and it was finally ready to host its first event.  I had arrived at my destination goal and I was a happy girl.

I knew very few things about events that day except that I loved doing them and I was going to quit my job soon and do this full time.

My bride was happy.  The bride’s mother was happy.  We got everyone dressed.  Everything was set-up and decorated – we were ready to go.  The photographer was snapping away with the camera and the groom was chewing off his fingernails.

We got through the ceremony with the precision of a well-oiled machine.  The reset between the wedding and reception went off without a hitch.  The bride and groom were smiling radiantly while the photographer finished snapping photos to commemorate this fabulous occasion (hers and mine).

We flowed flawlessly from the photographs into dinner.  The DJ was right on cue with the introductions of the bridal party and the new Mr. and Mrs.  This was so much fun!!  (Did I mention that I’m a venue owner?  And I now own my own business?)  I was the queen of my world!

The bride had chosen a Mexican buffet as her dinner offering.  Since we allow outside catering, they had taken care of it themselves.  It smelled wonderful and the guests were digging in with great delight.

I was standing there trying to look important, yet helpful when the first guest said, “Where can I find the drinks?”

“Ummmm… let me check for you,” I said as I looked around wondering to myself where they were.  Not finding any myself, I went to the caterer to ask.  With my inability to speak Spanish and her limited ability to speak English – we determined that drinks had not been ordered.  What?  How does that happen?  Didn’t you offer them? Yes, the bride said her mother told her to order food, but didn’t say anything about drinks.

As fun as the placing-the-blame game is to play, it still doesn’t change the fact that there are no drinks to be found anywhere.  And then the line started forming… “Can I get some water?”, “This food is really spicy, I need something to drink NOW!”, “What do you mean there are no drinks?”

It was like a bad dream with hoards of angry people with their mouths on fire coming at me with the gusto of the passengers on the Titanic looking for an available life raft.  I’M NOT TRAINED! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?

So, this is where the rubber hits the road.  Grab a pitcher, grab a container of Countrytime lemonade, chip the ice from the bottom of the tray – let’s make something happen.  Send my husband to the small market across the street to get something wet – anything.  Just go.

The lemonade mix, the red gooey junk he found at the market, water and ice all went into a big bowl served in leftover birthday cups.  Tragedy averted.  Fires extinguished.  All is calm on the western front.

Now we ask… who is ordering the drinks?  Are you sure?  And just to make darned sure, I always follow up with the caterer prior to the event.  “No surprises” is an easier thing to manage than “adapt and overcome”.  We can do both, but we’re much more efficient about it now.