Holiday Dinner With A Side Of Bacon
You Just Can't Make This Shit Up...
Today was the day of our big holiday dinner for the office staff. Despite a few last-minute items that had to be purchased (utensils, plates) we had everything in place for a flawless meal.
I even stopped by the store last night and bought a selection of olives and pickles along with serving trays, since IMHO it's just not a feast without those tiny sweet pickles and a couple of pimiento-stuffed olives to toothpick in place on top of your food to have it "look" at everybody.
We were scheduled for a quick staff meeting at 10:30a to get a little of The Man's work accomplished, then the caterers would drop in at 11 am and we'd feast and chat for an hour or so.
So... 11 am rolls around, and there's no food. 11:15, no food. 11:30, ditto. By 11:45 we've finally got the caterer on the phone, and he's claiming he doesn't have a street address for this building. Ummm, it's right there on the receipt, pal. The copy of which we're holding in our hands! OK, he's 30 seconds away, he claims.
20 minutes later, we've got staff that work in satellite offices bailing out and heading back to work, asking me for refunds in that joking manner that means they really DO want a refund. The delivery guy's cell AND the caterer's business phone are no longer being answered. We finally ring them up on a private cell phone that won't Caller I.D. back to The Man, and find out they're waiting in the loading dock area, when we've been very specific about coming to the front of the building.
Two of the admins are in place with a cart, and load up all the food to get it upstairs ASAP, though as far as I'm concerned, delivery means "bring that food to me!"
Mr. Delivery Guy suddenly starts waving a bill in the air claiming we owe him the full amount, plus a $30 delivery fee. Yeah, right, asswipe. I think not. That was all paid in full last week. Check with your boss!
Mr. Delivery Guy tries to reclaim the food, but it's already past the security gates and heading up the elevator. He can't get in without our OK, and as far as I'm concerned, we've concluded our transaction. I had a nice tip for him, but the Tip-O-Meter has long since expired. This guy's lucky to not get my foot in his ass. (Note: the caterer's shop is literally 5 minutes away if you catch all green lights, 8 min. if you don't)
I get back to the conference room, and people are grumbling about filing in Small Claims Court for a refund since the food's 90 minutes late and getting quite cold. We're also missing the giblet gravy and the cake we ordered for dessert.
OK, finally the staff's all in place, getting ready to feed, when who steps off the elevator but one of Houston's Finest, looking for "two women who stole a cartload of food". Unbefuckinglievable. Mr. Delivery Guy has found a cop to try and extort money out of us.
Of course, we've got our receipt handy, and nowhere on our copy is the handwritten part at the bottom about a $30 delivery fee. Methinks Mr. Delivery Guy is trying to weasel up some Xtra Xmas cash, counting on us not being willing to make a fuss and just fork it over.
Mr. Cop studies the receipt for a minute or so, asks a few questions, then departs to go run off Mr. Delivery Guy. He will not, sadly, use his Taser on Mr. Delivery Guy's testicles.
The food's lukewarm, but OK. It would have been in the "Very Good" category had it been on time and therefore hot.
In case you're wondering, I can't recommend "It's All Good" caterers for future events based on today's performance. I'd slag on 'em more, but I don't have their version of events just yet.
No more Holiday Planning Committees for me! I learned my lesson about volunteering this year!
Today was the day of our big holiday dinner for the office staff. Despite a few last-minute items that had to be purchased (utensils, plates) we had everything in place for a flawless meal.
I even stopped by the store last night and bought a selection of olives and pickles along with serving trays, since IMHO it's just not a feast without those tiny sweet pickles and a couple of pimiento-stuffed olives to toothpick in place on top of your food to have it "look" at everybody.
We were scheduled for a quick staff meeting at 10:30a to get a little of The Man's work accomplished, then the caterers would drop in at 11 am and we'd feast and chat for an hour or so.
So... 11 am rolls around, and there's no food. 11:15, no food. 11:30, ditto. By 11:45 we've finally got the caterer on the phone, and he's claiming he doesn't have a street address for this building. Ummm, it's right there on the receipt, pal. The copy of which we're holding in our hands! OK, he's 30 seconds away, he claims.
20 minutes later, we've got staff that work in satellite offices bailing out and heading back to work, asking me for refunds in that joking manner that means they really DO want a refund. The delivery guy's cell AND the caterer's business phone are no longer being answered. We finally ring them up on a private cell phone that won't Caller I.D. back to The Man, and find out they're waiting in the loading dock area, when we've been very specific about coming to the front of the building.
Two of the admins are in place with a cart, and load up all the food to get it upstairs ASAP, though as far as I'm concerned, delivery means "bring that food to me!"
Mr. Delivery Guy suddenly starts waving a bill in the air claiming we owe him the full amount, plus a $30 delivery fee. Yeah, right, asswipe. I think not. That was all paid in full last week. Check with your boss!
Mr. Delivery Guy tries to reclaim the food, but it's already past the security gates and heading up the elevator. He can't get in without our OK, and as far as I'm concerned, we've concluded our transaction. I had a nice tip for him, but the Tip-O-Meter has long since expired. This guy's lucky to not get my foot in his ass. (Note: the caterer's shop is literally 5 minutes away if you catch all green lights, 8 min. if you don't)
I get back to the conference room, and people are grumbling about filing in Small Claims Court for a refund since the food's 90 minutes late and getting quite cold. We're also missing the giblet gravy and the cake we ordered for dessert.
OK, finally the staff's all in place, getting ready to feed, when who steps off the elevator but one of Houston's Finest, looking for "two women who stole a cartload of food". Unbefuckinglievable. Mr. Delivery Guy has found a cop to try and extort money out of us.
Of course, we've got our receipt handy, and nowhere on our copy is the handwritten part at the bottom about a $30 delivery fee. Methinks Mr. Delivery Guy is trying to weasel up some Xtra Xmas cash, counting on us not being willing to make a fuss and just fork it over.
Mr. Cop studies the receipt for a minute or so, asks a few questions, then departs to go run off Mr. Delivery Guy. He will not, sadly, use his Taser on Mr. Delivery Guy's testicles.
The food's lukewarm, but OK. It would have been in the "Very Good" category had it been on time and therefore hot.
In case you're wondering, I can't recommend "It's All Good" caterers for future events based on today's performance. I'd slag on 'em more, but I don't have their version of events just yet.
No more Holiday Planning Committees for me! I learned my lesson about volunteering this year!
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