Some times you just have to let things go. But before you do, you just need to vent a little bit about it. Like on your blog. I'm not naming names ... and the reason for that will be clear by the end.
I'm an Events Planner (among other things) for a pretty large company that just got acquired by an even larger company. Pretty much the hugest, hottest company there is at the moment. My department alone has 250+ people and my job is to make sure they're happy. That can mean anything from ensuring there are bottle openers around for any one of our impromptu parties (Screw caps? On beer? Whattaya, crazy?) all the way up to planning wedding-sized meetings which include table seatings, favors, (Or, in the case swag. And yes… I prefer the old school "swag" over the bastardized schwag, though either one will do) menus, agendas, and the list goes on. I take my job very personally. I take my events very seriously. And when something goes wrong, I get pretty mad.
A few weeks ago I took over 100 people on a day trip to Hunter Mountain. I gave out great ski hats done up in our company colors with our department logo stitched on the front. I ordered generic energy drinks made up with our department logo to hand out on the bus. I stuffed (with help from volunteers) over 100 Ziploc bags with the hats and drinks, some sunglasses (also branded), and assorted snacks ranging from the healthy protein bar variety on up to the Pringles-Pop Tarts- Froot-by-the-Foot variety. I arranged everything with Hunter from the lift tickets to the rentals right up to the 3:00pm open (premium) bar and all the food we could eat. I even had some all-veggie options for the vegetarians … and provided kosher meals as well. Really, I couldn't have planned better. What could have gone wrong? Well ...
At 6:24 a.m. the morning of the trip Quibbit and I pulled up to the front of my office building where we were all to assemble, excited to start the day. I was only a touch concerned to see that there were no buses waiting for us. Showtime is usually a half hour before departure – and we weren't leaving till 7:00 so we had a cushion.
At 7:15 the first bus finally arrived. It was being driving by a "man" I will refer to as Idiot Bus Driver. This ugly, abhorrent man had actually been our bus driver last year – when I'd called a whole other bus company. Like hair club for men, Idiot Bus Driver isn't only a bus driver, he's also the president. Of this other company that just happened to be contracted out by this new company I'd called. He was like gum stuck to my shoe ... I couldn't escape him. The second I saw his face my stomach dropped. This was going to be an awful day. And we were already half an hour late. Meanwhile, the other bus was MIA.
Luvviepuffaroo: Where's the other bus?
Idiot Bus Driver: He was right behind me when I was on Canal Street. Maybe he got lost.
Luvvie: Can you call him?
IBD: No. I try. His cell phone don't work.
Luvvie: Do you guys have walkie-talkies?
IBD: Huh..? Wha..? (grunt of some sort)???
Luvvie (to Quibbit): Uh-oh.
I kept calling the bus company -- who had contracted this job out to Idiot Bus Driver … but they had no answers for me. To add insult to injury, every time I called their number I had to listen to this endless loop of "we here at XYX Bus Company promise you the BEST service … blah di blah blah". When I finally spoke with them they were as useless as Idiot Bus Driver.
Finally Idiot Bus Driver decided that he would drive to the last place he'd seen the 2nd bus. Quibbit stayed in IBD's bus (along with 50 other people) and kept in phone contact with me as I stood in front of my office building with the 50 remaining people.
Turns out the 2nd bus driver was stalled on Canal Street because he didn't know how to work the bus and had locked some mechanism some how. Um … okay. We finally all hit the road at 8:00 … and went smack into that really great Manhattan traffic everyone's always so keen on.
At 8:30 we were finally through to Jersey (and like 2 miles from where we started) when Idiot Bus Driver pulled the bus over "for gas" and proceeded to go into Dunkin Donuts for breakfast even though his damn bus had been idling outside our building for 45 minutes in clear view of a breakfast stand selling egg sandwiches, bagels, donuts and coffee. This took another ½ hour. We FINALLY hit the road 2 hours later than planned. People from my company who'd chosen to drive on their own were already at Hunter, and meanwhile we could still see the Manhattan sky line.
The day went okay, though, and everyone had a good time, but then, just to justify my Xanax prescription … On the ride home for the last hour of the trip as people were trying to sleep Idiot Bus Driver argued loudly with someone on his cell phone. At least we fared better than the poor folks on the other bus -- their driver (the guy who'd been stalled) couldn't tell the heat from the air conditioning and froze everyone on his bus. The next day people on both buses referred to the 4 hour ride home as a "nightmare".
Now, see, who do you think has to take the fall for this? I have to manage it, handle it, deal with it. While it was everyone's problem, it's really only MY responsibility. It's a terrible feeling to arrange a great day on the slopes for everyone but all you hear about the next day is how the buses were late, badly driven and "nightmarish".
Idiot Bus Driver: He was right behind me when I was on Canal Street. Maybe he got lost.
Luvvie: Can you call him?
IBD: No. I try. His cell phone don't work.
Luvvie: Do you guys have walkie-talkies?
IBD: Huh..? Wha..? (grunt of some sort)???
Luvvie (to Quibbit): Uh-oh.
I kept calling the bus company -- who had contracted this job out to Idiot Bus Driver … but they had no answers for me. To add insult to injury, every time I called their number I had to listen to this endless loop of "we here at XYX Bus Company promise you the BEST service … blah di blah blah". When I finally spoke with them they were as useless as Idiot Bus Driver.
Finally Idiot Bus Driver decided that he would drive to the last place he'd seen the 2nd bus. Quibbit stayed in IBD's bus (along with 50 other people) and kept in phone contact with me as I stood in front of my office building with the 50 remaining people.
Turns out the 2nd bus driver was stalled on Canal Street because he didn't know how to work the bus and had locked some mechanism some how. Um … okay. We finally all hit the road at 8:00 … and went smack into that really great Manhattan traffic everyone's always so keen on.
At 8:30 we were finally through to Jersey (and like 2 miles from where we started) when Idiot Bus Driver pulled the bus over "for gas" and proceeded to go into Dunkin Donuts for breakfast even though his damn bus had been idling outside our building for 45 minutes in clear view of a breakfast stand selling egg sandwiches, bagels, donuts and coffee. This took another ½ hour. We FINALLY hit the road 2 hours later than planned. People from my company who'd chosen to drive on their own were already at Hunter, and meanwhile we could still see the Manhattan sky line.
The day went okay, though, and everyone had a good time, but then, just to justify my Xanax prescription … On the ride home for the last hour of the trip as people were trying to sleep Idiot Bus Driver argued loudly with someone on his cell phone. At least we fared better than the poor folks on the other bus -- their driver (the guy who'd been stalled) couldn't tell the heat from the air conditioning and froze everyone on his bus. The next day people on both buses referred to the 4 hour ride home as a "nightmare".
Now, see, who do you think has to take the fall for this? I have to manage it, handle it, deal with it. While it was everyone's problem, it's really only MY responsibility. It's a terrible feeling to arrange a great day on the slopes for everyone but all you hear about the next day is how the buses were late, badly driven and "nightmarish".
I wrote a note to the bus company that listed, in detail, everything Idiot Bus Driver had done wrong. They didn't respond, but what they DID do was forward the note on to Idiot Bus Driver. Why would they do that? Because they didn't know that the President of the Bus Company they had contracted out was also the Idiot Bus Driver. I later got a nasty note from Idiot Bus Driver calling me a "maron". Um … okay.
Anyway, this thing went on and on. Way too long to explain. My days were spent fighting with the bus company while still explaining to everyone I saw in the halls that I was doing everything I could. People don't like to let things go. And there are a few kvetches here who have schadenfreude that goes on for miles.
Ultimately I wasn't contesting the whole fee … I just wanted our tip back. I filed a claim with Amex, and then the bus company threatened to go after me (and my credit) personally. When I consulted our legal team here they told me it was true -- I could get sued. And I'd be out on my own at that point ... they couldn't do a thing to protect me.
Lawyer: Is this really worth the 272 dollars?
Luvvie: I guess not.
Lawyer: Then just pay it and don't use them again …
Luvvie: (dejected). Okay.
Now, here's where I take a little detour, but it all comes back together in the end.
Last night I went out with Hammer of Israel for cocktails, to make up for the Celebrity Autobiography night which he had to miss. We don't see each other much, but it's always fun when we do catch up.
Over a melange of cocktails at Thalia he proceeded to wow me with a bunny-boiler story that curled my toes.
Luvvie: I guess not.
Lawyer: Then just pay it and don't use them again …
Luvvie: (dejected). Okay.
Now, here's where I take a little detour, but it all comes back together in the end.
Last night I went out with Hammer of Israel for cocktails, to make up for the Celebrity Autobiography night which he had to miss. We don't see each other much, but it's always fun when we do catch up.
Over a melange of cocktails at Thalia he proceeded to wow me with a bunny-boiler story that curled my toes.
I mean, in essence, it started out the same as most stories, boy meets girl (on line) boy dates girl (in person) boy gets stalked by girl (a little in person, a lot on line).
She did a number of things than involved hateful emails, then felt bad, then wrote contrite emails, then felt evil, so wrote hateful emails. (There's more, very much more, but this is not really my story to tell ... it's just tangential to my story, so that's all I'll say about it.)
She did a number of things than involved hateful emails, then felt bad, then wrote contrite emails, then felt evil, so wrote hateful emails. (There's more, very much more, but this is not really my story to tell ... it's just tangential to my story, so that's all I'll say about it.)
Look, who among us doesn't feel like doing something evil after a breakup? Even those breakups we've initiated. While my breakup with Hammer was pretty benign I've had other breakups that weren’t. And sure I fantasized about dragging their name through the mud and ruining their good time forever. Everyone FANTASIZES about it … but past the age of 17 we don't actually do anything about it in the real world. That's what those voodoo dolls are for.
So, fast forward to today. I've got the lawyer telling me to just let this thing with the bus company go. Yes, they behaved badly. Yes, they never apologized. Yes, they threatened to attack my credit personally. Yes, all I wanted was a phone call and some resolution. Yes I was annoyed that I never got closure. But really … did it matter?
I went into our VP of Finance's office. He'd been championing my cause from the beginning – not only with this, but with every thing I face with these events. I call him Bad Cop … as in "I need to get this fixed … be my bad cop?" I explained what the Lawyer had said. I explained that right now, what with getting married and looking for a place to live I just really didn't need this strike against me. Especially when really -- this was the company's money.
Bad Cop: Okay … then let's drop it. But I think you should write one last note telling the bus company that you work for (this large corporation … Name Here) now … and you could have swung a lot of business their way but now, for 272 dollars, they're throwing all that away.
But you know what it suddenly sounded like? It sounded like a girl saying "You could have had a great thing going with me and now because you decided to be an ass you're losing it!"
I shook my head.
Luvvie: No, Bad Cop … I don't think I wanna do that.
Bad Cop: Then write to the website that lists them on their site as a reputable company, and tell them to blacklist them, and explain how badly they treated you.
But suddenly that sounded like going onto someone's social networking site page and telling everyone that this guy who broke up with you was trash. Maybe the guy is only trash where you're concerned, and fine to everyone else. And maybe this bus company is really pretty okay … he just sucked when it came to dealing with me.
Maybe it was hearing all of Hammer's stories last night ... and then hearing how juvenile I sounded every time I tried to write a note to the bus company. It all came out sounding the same. "You hurt me, and I want revenge!". So I took the high rode. Not by bus, though ... at least not by a bus driven by an Idiot Bus Driver.
I went into our VP of Finance's office. He'd been championing my cause from the beginning – not only with this, but with every thing I face with these events. I call him Bad Cop … as in "I need to get this fixed … be my bad cop?" I explained what the Lawyer had said. I explained that right now, what with getting married and looking for a place to live I just really didn't need this strike against me. Especially when really -- this was the company's money.
Bad Cop: Okay … then let's drop it. But I think you should write one last note telling the bus company that you work for (this large corporation … Name Here) now … and you could have swung a lot of business their way but now, for 272 dollars, they're throwing all that away.
But you know what it suddenly sounded like? It sounded like a girl saying "You could have had a great thing going with me and now because you decided to be an ass you're losing it!"
I shook my head.
Luvvie: No, Bad Cop … I don't think I wanna do that.
Bad Cop: Then write to the website that lists them on their site as a reputable company, and tell them to blacklist them, and explain how badly they treated you.
But suddenly that sounded like going onto someone's social networking site page and telling everyone that this guy who broke up with you was trash. Maybe the guy is only trash where you're concerned, and fine to everyone else. And maybe this bus company is really pretty okay … he just sucked when it came to dealing with me.
Maybe it was hearing all of Hammer's stories last night ... and then hearing how juvenile I sounded every time I tried to write a note to the bus company. It all came out sounding the same. "You hurt me, and I want revenge!". So I took the high rode. Not by bus, though ... at least not by a bus driven by an Idiot Bus Driver.
You don't need to GET revenge to HAVE revenge. The cliche would have me believe that living well is the best revenge.
But you know ... it is.
But you know ... it is.
