You Ended Up Being His Plus One

, , , , , | Right | August 4, 2020

I work day-of wedding coordination at an extremely upscale country club in the south. Because it is so expensive to join the club and host events, members expect everything to be PERFECT.

A big part of my job is making sure the wedding party and hosts are happy no matter what, so if there are any issues at all, we handle it. This happens about five hours into a reception with an open bar, wine service, and passed drinks.

A coworker speed-walks up to me with a look of slight panic.

Coworker: “There’s an issue with a guest. I need your help outside.”

Outside, a man is so intoxicated that he’s rolling in the grass like a turtle stuck on its shell, completely unable to stand up on his own or speak. We enlist some bartenders to help us half-carry him inside. We prop him up in a chair away from other guests, and he almost immediately passes out onto the table.

Bartender: “I’ll get him some water, but you need to stay here and make sure he doesn’t fall out of the chair and hurt himself.”

Me: *To the other coordinators* “I’ll stay here with him. We need to figure out if he has any friends or relatives who can take him home. Don’t bother the hosts if you don’t have to. Oh, and maybe get a trash can, as well, in case he vomits.”

It turns out the man was at the wedding completely alone, leaving his wife and kids at home in another state and knowing no one in town except the groom. Along with another coordinator, I spend the next hour physically keeping this semi-conscious, significantly-larger-than-me man in his chair and holding a trash can up to his face as he vomits, sometimes missing the can and getting on me. The smell is unbelievable.

A few guests notice, and we have to keep a permanent unfazed, pleasant expression saying, “Oh, don’t worry at all! This happens all the time.” Eventually, the — also very intoxicated — groom spots his friend.

Groom: “Heeey, [Friend]! How you doing, buddy? Looks like you’ve had a great time.”

He sees my coworker holding the man’s shoulders to keep him from falling forward out of the chair while he heaves into the trash.

Groom: “If I knew I could get a back rub out of it, I might just be sick next!” *Winks* “Well, I don’t want anything to do with this, but he’s a great guy, so take care of him.” *Wanders off*

The wedding finally ended and we were able to get the man into a wheelchair and roll him to the guest shuttle back to his hotel. An absolute angel of a guest and her husband volunteered to chaperone him and make sure that he got to his room safely. If I hadn’t smelled like vomit, I would have hugged her.

After all this, I still had to pack the married couple’s overnight bags, deal with a hissy fit from the bride, clean up the reception space, and accommodate last-minute requests from the host to pack items she was supposed to bring home that night and hold them for the next morning. By the end, we’d been on our feet for more than eight hours straight with no breaks or food.

We were not tipped.

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Hope For Humanity Is Elevating

, , , , , | Right | April 2, 2020

(There’s an office party in a nearby member’s club. My friends headed to it before I did as I had to work late, so I arrive on my own. I’m scared of lifts and so, even though the party is on the eighth floor, I attempt to take the stairs. The security guards spot me on the way down.)

Guard #1: “Hey! Didn’t we tell you there was a lift?”

Me: “Yeah, you did. It’s just, uh, I’m scared of lifts and I kind of took a look at this one and thought I’d be happier on the stairs.”

Guard #1: “Oh. I’m afraid the stairs only go to the sixth floor and then the doors are locked.”

Me: *laughs* “Yeah, I noticed that. I guess I’ll just have to suck it up.”

(I start to walk to the lift. I hear the second security guard ask the first one what happened.)

Guard #2: “Hold on! Wait there!”

(I turn around. The guard walks up to me.)

Guard #2: “How about I ride up with you?”

Me: “Oh, no, don’t worry. I’ll just suck it up.”

Guard #2: “Nah, it’s fine.” *presses the button and walks in* “Come on in.”

(I walk in. He closes the door and presses the button for the eighth floor.)

Guard #2: “You see, nothing is going to happen. I’m here, riding with you, so we’re going to be fine. I promise.”

(True to his word, we got to the eighth floor without dying. I didn’t see him for the rest of the evening, but if you’re out there, my friends said they were worried about how I’d get up there, given my phobia, and thought you were incredibly sweet for riding up with me.)

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Sob Sister

, , , , , | Related | January 16, 2019

(I work at a country club. At a large wedding, I learn that the only thing worse than a bridezilla is an I’m-not-the-bride-or-the-groom-but-I’m-making-it-all-about-me-zilla. This ‘zilla was the girlfriend of the bride’s brother. My manager and I are helping the family do some final cleaning up for the night, and I gradually realize that this one young woman is sitting in the corner, crying. Different family members, including the bride, keep going over to try and comfort her. As we’re all heading out to the parking lot, she’s trailing behind us sobbing loudly. My manager, a sweet grandmotherly lady in her 60s, asks her what’s wrong. Both the bride and her brother try and deflect, but the woman starts yelling how she needs a sister, and she misses her sister, and it’s so unfair she doesn’t have a sister. At this point, my manager and I assume that she has lost her sister — i.e., her sister had passed away — and that’s why she was crying. My poor manager starts telling this girl how she (the manager) lost her son when he was nineteen, and offering to hug her and get her water and stuff. The woman then screams at her boyfriend/the bride’s brother:)

Woman: “NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME, [Brother]!” *lays down on the ground and sobs hysterically*

(The bride and her mother are now both pissed at [Brother] because he apparently “promised this wouldn’t happen.” Just as I and the manager are thinking these people are heartless monsters, the groom, seeing our expressions, tells us:)

Groom: “She doesn’t have a sister.”

Me: “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can—“

Groom: “No, you don’t understand. She’s never had a sister. She just gets really upset about totally random stuff when she’s drunk.”

Me: “Oooookay… So, she’s not upset because her sister died? She’s upset because she never had a sister in the first place?”

Groom: “Yup.”

(The brother pulled his car around, they loaded the hysterical crying woman into the car, and he made it all of ten yards before having to pull over so she could throw up. Repeatedly.)

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This Manager Has You Down In The Gutter

, , , , , | Working | May 9, 2018

When I was still a teenager, I worked for a country club. The job was very easy most nights, and the clientele was very polite. The only bad thing about it was our general manager. He was a very pompous man who would eat more than he worked and would get in screaming matches with all the staff. The chefs especially hated him because he was always trying to tell them how to do everything, when he knew nothing about food. There was one night, above all others, that encapsulates him as a manager.

We were hosting a wedding, birthday party, golf tournament, and normal dining. We were very understaffed, and I happened to be sick, so we were all floundering. My supervisor put me on the hostess stand where I wouldn’t have to strain myself too much, but I still had quite a bit to do. At one point my GM approached me and demanded I clean the bathrooms. I tend to get very confrontational when I’m sick, and I told him no. I would not be cleaning a bathroom and dealing with food. That was not part of my duties. I guess he wasn’t expecting that from a young girl, and just scampered off.

I found out the next day what had happened. At some point, one of the women in the bridal party got drunk and tried to flush multiple tampons down our toilet. Our sewage is connected to the kitchen, and sewage water from the bathroom flooded the kitchen. My manager tried to get every person on staff to clean it, but they all had the same response as me. Instead of calling in a cleaner, a plumber, or closing down for the night, he told the dishwashers to just occasionally sweep the sewage water out the back door. He closed down both bathrooms with a full house, and we continued to serve food the entire night.

After all that, this man even had the gall to write up each person who had said no to him for “insubordination.” I quit not too long after. He is still the GM, years later.


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Not Tipped For Great Things

, , , , , | Right | December 7, 2017

(One coworker and I are finishing up working a dinner at a country club with a dozen adults who have been drinking and very needy all evening.)

Customer: “Thank you both so much for your help this evening; you were absolutely wonderful, and so kind to us!”

(The customer hugs both of us as the party is leaving. After cleaning up the tables, my coworker picks up the check.)

Coworker: “Guess how much their bill was?”

Me: “I’m afraid to ask.”

Coworker: “$1,017.”

Me: “Oh, my gosh! What did they tip?!”

Coworker: “Nothing. At all.”

(I suppose some people think that a “thank you” is enough for servers who live off of tips, even if that was the only group my coworker and I were able to serve all night.)

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