Life Altering Event

As an Event Planner, one needs to be prepared for the unexpected. Things can change on a dime....power outages, early arrivals and additional guests. Being prepared for the unexpected is also a trait that can be carried over into a Planner's personal life....this is story of one of those events in life where no amount of organization, coaching or 'visualization' could prepare you for.

All you women out there know where I'm coming from when I mention the extremely unpleasant experience of our annual visit to the doctor for our 'special' appointment. This series of unfortunate events took place at such an appointment, with such doctor who specialized in the 'special' procedure one cold winter day....

I had been referred to a new doctor where I was told the experience was different - soothing- calming - relaxing - bullshit. I arrived at this magical place and was surprised to find my initial impression was in fact that the office was quite modern complete with white leather furniture, calla lilies and sparkling water with limes for my enjoyment - made me think of a Great Gatsby themed party....white draping, white clothes, minty drinks...I was brought back to reality from my white washed dream by someone calling my name "Event Planner Extraordinaire" (this name follows me everywhere, you understand) - the voice continued "Please follow me".

I got up and followed my new friend to a room that I envisioned to be filled with fluffy pillows, tea and kittens....little did I know I was a lamb being led to slaughter. I entered the dimly lit room and got comfortable. My new friend told me the doctor would be in shortly and I should get ready and sit in the exam chair. So, still feeling pretty good I took off everything on the bottom half including my socks (no one looks good with no pants and socks...even me) and hopped up onto what looked like a leather dentist chair and placed the very stylish paper towel 'blanket' around my hips as instructed.

I was rather enjoying the sounds of Enya and scent of candles when a semi-attractive man in a lab coat entered followed by 2 women. Ok, so I wasn't expecting an audience but was still willing to go along with it.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Love" (that is not really his name) the Doctor said in an English accent as he extended his hand taking my sweaty, clammy one into his.
"And this is my technician Miss. I-don't-speak English" (again, not real name) and
"Miss Resident" (real name, just kidding). "Let's get started shall we?" he continued.

"Lean back please and put your feet in the stirrups" Dr. Love said. "Just try to relax, we will start with some basic anatomy of the 'special' area".
Suddenly I wasn't so calm and I started to panic - what was once soothing sounds of Enya now sounded like Chewbacka from StarWars and the so called calming candles now felt like they were setting the room on fire and I was in a disco inferno as I started to sweat like it was my job. I did my best to channel my inner Planner and tried to remain calm....I plan events for thousands of people, I can do this.

"OK I will begin" said Dr. Love and then he flicked a switch......this is when it all changed. That was the moment when my calm, professional demeanor went out the window as out of the corner of my eye I saw something frightful, something scary, something no one should ever see!! Turns out I had failed to notice the computer screen that was 5 inches from my face that was now displaying a magnetized shot of my YOU-KNOW-WHAT!

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH What is THAT!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs! "Turn it OFF!" I yelled as I closed my legs hitting the doctor in the side of the head.
"My eye!" Dr. Love hollered as he put his hand to his head. But the image was still there - I saw Miss I-Don't-Speak-English start to fumble with the instruments as she tried to console the doctor and check his wound - in my moment of panic I jumped out of the chair only to forget I was not wearing any pants and the once paper towel blanket had now disintegrated with all my sweating! With one hand in the front and one in the back trying to stretch my mini cardigan as far as it would go, I didn't know what to do so I ran behind the curtain. Wow, so much for staying calm. So much for being prepared for the unexpected.

"Well, that didn't go as well as it could have" Dr. Love said.
No kidding. Eating a steak at a vegetarian convention would have been better suited.

I eventually got dressed, said a very sincere sorry and left. Not sure I am going to be invited back.

Event Planning truth: One should always pay attention to the little details - name tags, extra ice and of course video screens with cameras that magnify.

Courtney?

We all know people who do it. Rather then look into your eyes or even above your neck while we are speaking, these people look at our chests. It's as if there is a message written there "stare at me for a free donut" or "if you stare long enough they will get bigger", regardless despite the obvious social faux pas it happens more often then most of us would like. I suppose if I had paid (or someone much older and richer had) for the fun bag twins, one might not mind as much. This is not the case with me however and this is a story of how one set of rather modest 'party hats' flustered one executive and caused temporary hearing loss.

In an effort to stay anonymous I cannot reveal my name however, in order to tell this story a name of sorts is required. For that purpose let's just say my name is Big Boob Chrissy, or Chrissy for short.

I was working at a business session with a very special guest in attendance. My job was to get all guests seated and organized and ensure the special guest, once he arrived had everything they required (that final statement turned out to take on a whole new meaning).

As everyone filed in and took their seats, I got the nod from the MC that the session was about to begin when out of the corner of my eye I saw a gaggle of 'suits' coming my way. This must be them I thought as I straightened my skirt and pulled at my shirt and prepared my best pageant smile for the greeting.

As they approached, I put out my hand to who turned out to be the big wig and said
"Hi! Welcome to the event, If you need any assistance my name is Chrissy"
He smiled at me looked down at my chest as he firmly took my hand then looked up at me and with a big smile he asked " Courtney?"
Hmmmm. Not quite.
"It's Chrissy sir, nice to meet you" I responded.
Again, tight gripe on the hand, glance down at the party hats and back up to eye level when he repeated "Courtney?"
I felt like grabbing his chin and shaking it, however restrained myself and instead said
"No sir, my name is Chrissy"
Still looking at my chest.......
"Courtney?" he asked. Not sure why it was coming out as a question.....
"it's Chrissy" I repeated. Perhaps he was hard of hearing.
"Courtney?"
"CHRISSY". I wished I knew how to sign.
"Courtney?"
"yes, OK, Courtney" I finally gave in.
"Nice to meet you Courtney" and finally his eyes came up above the equator once again. With a huge grin plastered on his face and visions of party hats dancing in his head we parted ways.

I watched my new friend walk into the session welcomed by a large round of applause and thought to myself: that smile on his face is thanks to me and a couple of headlights. Funny how everyone, even the most powerful people have their own kriptonite. Lois Lane would be proud.

Event Planning Truth: never under estimate the power of good accessories.

Paparazzi

I'm not a star gazer. I don't hang around hotels during film festivals or near locker rooms after games. I'll admit that if Oprah approached me on the street and asked me for fashion advice, I would not ignore her (I am not only a great event planner but am also very polite) but generally with the exception of a sale on Manolo Blahnik shoes, I am rarely star struck.
I am starting to think I should change my habits though because if I did then maybe I could have avoided the mortifying incident I'm about to describe.......

I was working at a charity event at the door greeting guests and asking for donations for raffle tickets and most importantly tickets to enter a draw to win an autographed jersey by a famous athlete. This story would not have the same effect did I not mention the name on the jersey....in the interest of staying anonymous let's say it was signed by Doug Gretzky.

So the event was moving along nicely, I was looking fabulous, the drinks were flowing and no-one was saying no to me at the door to purchase tickets (in my previous life I swear I was in sales). Any-hoo, so I'm having a great time and am feeling pretty good when I see a "I would say yes if he asked me out" guy walk thru the door. I should explain I rate most guys on whether or not I would go out with them if they asked (keeps the trolls at bay) and this guy was definitely on the yes side so I was certain when I worked my charm he would buy an armload of tickets...who could say no to me right? or so I thought...
"Hi there, welcome to the event" I said with my best phone-sex-operator voice.
"Hi - glad to be here" he replied with less enthusiasm. Ok, he was going to play hardball, no problem.....as I tugged down on my v-neck sweater.
"I have some tickets here to win an autographed jersey, how many would you like?" Insert Julia Roberts smile....
"Um, no thanks" he replied with a sly grin.
Ok, game on....
"Really? Not even one? its for the kids and you could win this amazing jersey autographed by Doug Gretzky himself. That is priceless"
"No thank you, I'm good" he replied and tried to walk around me (rude! but I was not going down without a fight)
"You don't want to buy a ticket from me? It's only a few dollars - the prize is fabulous" I tried once again.
"I'm really good, thanks anyways"
"how about 2 for 1?"
"Not interested"
"You buy it, I win it?"
"nope"
"Ok then" and I let him go finally.

I couldn't believe how rude this recent member of my I-would-never-date-you-even-if-he-was-the-only-man-left-on-earth-other-then-peewee herman guy. How could he not give to the kids, forget the kids...how could he say no to ME?? I was about to explain these exact thoughts to my fellow volunteers who had been watching the whole incident go down when I was cut off:
"Event Planner Extraordinaire?" (there is that name again! :)
"yes" I replied.
"do you have any idea who that guy was you were just harassing?" The group of volunteers asked.
"besides a rude son-of-a-motherless-goat? nope"
"that WAS Doug Gretzky"
Oh my.
"you were just trying to sell him a ticket to win his own shirt!"

Well that explains it! My ego was somewhat bruised but I have to admit although I was embarrassed I was happy that it wasn't a case of bad breath or not enough cleavage that lost me the sale.

Event Planner Truth: Sex sells, unless you are trying to sell autographed jerseys.

Snap, Crackle and Pop

You know when you are shopping at the grocery store or out for lunch with friends and there is a screaming baby and it feels like based on the volume it is sitting right on your lap?

I cringe at the piercing cries of the little ones as they manage to reach octaves I didn't know anything but whales could and swear I will NEVER have children and if I do they will be silent, and well behaved. Well, that is how I used to feel actually......now rather then try to talk over the cries, I am secretly envious of their outburst and wish I could do the same. Wouldn't it be great if at anytime of day, no matter where you are, you could throw your purse on the ground, lay on your back (sanitizing the floor beforehand of course) and scream at the top of your lungs? As an Event Planner, I have those days sometimes and this is a story about one of them........

I was working at a children's event getting everything set up. Like with most events involving kids, there were lots of bright colors, toys and of course balloons. I feel I should mention I have never been a fan of balloons - they pop, whither and float away - and of course they are cheap - all of which are descriptors I don't like associated with my events. Anyhoo, I was setting up a party in a very busy lobby. I had some volunteers and also some eager children and their parents waiting for the party to start and most importantly (which I didn't pay much attention too), there was a maintenance man replacing florescent light fixtures in the mix.

The toys and decorations had been put up and the music was on - the final touch was going to be the helium balloons which I was unpacking from the delivery bag they came in. I will admit that surrounded by all the happy faces of children and crazy adults alike and holding the bunch of 20 odd colorful and bright balloons, I was feeling a bit like Willy Wonka and the lobby of this building was my chocolate factory. I was revelling in my dream of the blueberry girl, the little German lad in lederhosen and even smiling a little when thinking of the "I want it NOW" girl when I heard little footsteps running towards me.....

There was a little Oompa Loompa running in my direction followed by a red faced parent - even at this in my daze I smiled as I stepped back to allow the child to run even faster not looking behind me before I moved. As I took one step then two steps backwards my foot hit something and I hurt a crunch.
Oh no, please God tell me it's not little munchkin fingers......but before I could get any further every one of the 20 odd balloons I was holding burst one by one.

BANG, BANG, POP, BANG, POP, POP, POW, BANG, BANG!!!!

Someone had opened fire in the lobby of the kids party and my balloons were the intended victims!! After the shotgun subsided there was an eary calm and silence - what the heck had just happened?
And they I saw it - I had accidentally stepped onto a row of fluorescent light bulbs and as they hit the concrete floor, they burst into a million pieces and shards of glass flew into the air popping each of my balloons one by one whilst I held them.

The silence only last a moment when as if a children's choir at Christmas, every child all at once burst into a unified scream! Parents consoled their children while giving me looks that would put my childhood cane-holding ballet teacher to shame and others just stared in shock.

What had I done? How had I single handily ruined the party in a matter of moments? It was then, while I was standing alone surrounded by crying children, angry parents and an upset maintenance man when I thought of the screaming children at the grocery store and wished more then anything I was 5 years old again and I could lay on the ground, clenching my strings holding limp balloons, kick off my shoes and scream at the top of my lungs!!!

But of course I can't do that. I'm a professional.

Event Planning Truth: you need to know how to entertain children and most importantly, how not to be one.

Pretty People Poop

In event planning you are asked to do a lot of things that a) you would prefer not to do b) things that at one time called your nightmares home and c) things that stay etched in your mind no matter how hard you try to shake it off. This particular thing took place at a party, in the basement of an old church in a dark and scary bathroom.......


I was was well into my holiday party run and feeling the effects of late nights, loud music and using protein bars as my only source of nourishment. The event took place in an old church with a true nightclub vibe complete with music, lights, dancers (good, bad and ugly) and food to absorb all the alcohol. The usual suspects were there, Lindsay Lohan trainwrecks, Gotti brothers and the entire cast of the Hills.

The truth about event planning is that although the outside may be bright and shiny and planners put together beautiful parties and delicious meals they for the most part eat their dinner (if there is time) in the kitchen with the catering staff. In this case I was in such kitchen when I was approached by a staff person from the venue:
"Excuse me Event Planner Extraordinaire?" Actually, that is not really my name nor what he said but in this version of the story that is how it went.
"Yes?" I replied looking up from my cold bowl of twice heated soup
"We have a bit of a situation that needs your attention". The statement was a bit vague but the message was clear - it wasn't going to be pretty.
"What's up?" I responded
"There is a situation in the bathroom." Those words really only mean one thing......and that is when I got out my rubber gloves and bucket. Just kidding, but any event planner worth their salt travels with rubber finger protectors.
"Oh no, is someone sick?" suddenly my soup was not as appealing....
"No, they are not sick......" I noticed to use of the word 'they' and he continued "I need your help in the ladies room"

So I got up and followed the messenger into the washroom. As we approached and despite the ceilings vibrating with the base from the party there was still an unmistakable thumping coming from the direction we were headed that was not quite in tune.
"Right this way" the staffer told me as he opened the door to let me pass. His smirk was like braille for the blind as I understood the message. I was about to enter the Love Shak.
I slowly went into the washroom and at first didn't see anything. That turned out to be the problem.....the last stall on the left had 2.....no, wait.....4 feet! Sweet Jesus!!

Not sure whether to cry, laugh or just turn around, walk out the door and head to the nearest Starbucks for refuge I knocked on the stall. "Excuse me ziggy piggy perverts" (actually I didn't say it exactly like that) "Please come out".
I turned and gave my best 'I'm flight attendant, the plane is about to crash but I would love to get you a diet Coke' smile to my friend waiting at the door and knocked again -
"Excuse me, you need to come out. This is a ladies washroom and unless you're both wearing skirts, you need to take it outside". Not much of a response directed at me so I reverted to a tried and true method my mom taught me: " Ok you have until the count of 10 to come out of the washroom or security will be happy to help you" and the countdown began.

I left the washroom at that time leaving my invisible stop watch to its devices as I was feeling charitable and didn't want to shame Pamela and Tommy and headed back up the stairs. Feeling pretty good about my good deed and thinking how I could cash it in for at least a week I was about mid way up the staircase when a partygoer took the first step and then coasted down the rest on her bootylicious behind and crumpled to a messy pile of glitter, pleather and hairspray at my feet. Was this a gift from God specifically for me? Was this America's Funniest Home Videos moment intended for my amusement?
For a moment I thought about helping her up and continuing my good deed string but then remembered I had only a moment before had to break up a love fest in front of venue staff creating what I am sure is a story that will be repeated for years to come and changed my mind. I deserved a little something for me - a little private giggle and sweet revenge.

I generally do my best to be kind and helpful but the reality is that even the prettiest of people poop and this was a high fiber kind of day!

The Exhibitionist

When you work the kiosk at any registration desk you meet what I kindly refer to as "all sorts". This is a story about one of those sorts....

I was working at a check in desk at a very large trade show. We were registering professionals, performers and exhibitors for the event. By the morning of the second day the politeness that comes with responding to the 100th question regarding the location of the bathrooms, bus stop and free passes was starting to wear off - I along with my fellow coworkers were in need of a major break in the routine and man, were we about to get one.

You know those people who you see approaching you and even before they open their mouths, you just know it's going to be memorable? Just when I was starting to go crosseyed staring at the beige ceiling tiles I was brought back to reality by a young Paris Hilton wanna be asking "excuse me, do you have my pass?" Holding back the urge to wrap one hand around her neck and jamming the other down her throat to pull the gum that is being mutilated in her mouth, I politely responded "what type of pass are you looking for?"
Her response "I dunno, someone told me that a pass would be here for me at the door, I'm supposed to be working". Working at what, I wondered but replied
"what is your name? perhaps there is an envelope for you?" knowing full well there was no envelope as we did not hold passes at the door. She gave me her name and I pretended to look - as suspected there was nothing.
"I'm sorry" I said "there isn't anything for you. Do you know what you are working at here today?"
She replied "I have no idea I was just told to be here" I could tell she was getting agitated as she started to roll her eyes and flick her hair like nobody's business.
"Well I'm sorry" I said "there is no pass for you here and you don't know where you are working so I'm not sure I can help you." If looks could kill I would be writing this from the grave.
"I SAID I'm supposed to be working here!" she said
"And I said I'm very sorry but there are no passes here for you - what is your role at the trade show? Are you a performer?"
"No"
"Are you a sales person?"
"NO!"
"Are you a professional?"
And finally she remembered.......... "I'm an EXHIBITIONIST". Wow. Try keeping a straight face with that one.
"Do you mean an Exhibitor?" I asked while silently chanting my cat died, my cat died, my cat died to keep from laughing in her face.
"That's what I said - an Exhibitionist!"

Right. "Well here is your pass" as I calmy passed her the badge . "Have a great day." She snatched the pass out of my hand and stormed off into the show where I'm sure she told her employer she was there to work as and exhibitionist.

Karma is such a bitch.

El Presidente Goes Commando

Do you ever have those out of body experiences where you are looking down at yourself thinking "this cannot be happening"?

It was my very first big meeting at my new job. More then 500 people in the audience and President was on stage, I was in the first row with a headset on linking me to the tech booth at the back of the room when my career changed forever.

I was listening to the presentation on stage with the technicians voices in the background when I thought I heard my name....
"Do you copy?"
Do I copy what? I once copied my lab partner during a test in high school but that is not what they meant.
"Yes" I replied pressing the button on my headset.
"There is a video coming up, when it does we need you to go up on stage and switch the microphone that the presenter is wearing."
What the H-E-Double hockey sticks?
"Ready? Video in 3....2.....1" and then I was out of my body.

I watched my stunned self half crawl half run up the aisle and up the stairs onto the stage where I startled the presenter when I whispered as loud as my body would allow "Sir, I need to switch your mic"
Looking shocked and very annoyed he started to remove the microphone from the lapel of his shirt......pulling the cord from the inside of his jacket and finally in what seemed like an hour pulled the receiver from his belt loop. Except it didn't come off. The cord from the mic was stuck on something on his pants!

With the video still rolling the tugging began, I was sweating like OJ Simpson in court "holy shit, it's STUCK!". Whilst the presenter was pulling the cord I suddenly saw the problem....the cord was stuck on a button on the INSIDE of his pants. Chanting silently "do it for the team" and with seconds left on the video when the lights would come up to spotlight me and the presenter in a questionable position, I closed my eyes, held my breath and stuck my hand down the front of the pants. Yep, I really did it. I remember he was quite hairy and wearing designer undies - chic. Just in time I switched the microphones and ran back to my headset "Good job, we didn't think you were going to make it". Thanks.

As I reentered my very sweaty and shaky body, I realized that what had just happened will forever change my career and I would need to adjust my 'I would rather eat glue then do this' list. Most importanly though was that history was made and I survived what is now known as 'the day I stuck my hand down the Presidents pants'.

Event Planning truth #1: Taking one for the team has many many meanings.