Here's the post you've all been waiting for....
I believe that I have alluded to the troubles my family and I have been having with the caterer that we had chosen for my wedding. Basically they effed up by not putting anything in their contract about what happens when a client cancels their date, so we're due back our money. Well, we've only gotten half back and the woman who owns the business has been a complete ASSHOLE, stating that she hasn't gotten proof that "the guy is dead". You can read all the details on my yelp review.
Thursday after I had gotten home from work, my dad told me that he spoke with Caroline and she threw that lovely nugget of a comment at him. Now, my dad has a very colorful way with words and so I'm sure she got a pretty good idea of how my dad feels about her and the situation. He also dug out one of the programs from Chris' battalion ceremony in GA and said, "I got this out so if you'd like to go by there tomorrow and give this bitch her proof, you can go right ahead". "Oh, she's gonna get god damn proof alright..."
And then the drama queen planning began.
Now, I don't like confrontation. I'm really bad at it, especially if it's with women and if I'm sober. I panic about what the other person is going to say and I'm just not used to fighting with women. I grew up with all boys so that shit is cake. You literally just challenge their man-hood and out-wit them and you're good. It has been proven that I have earned my big man-balls when it comes to fighting with dudes.....but I digress. So, you can imagine that while I was FIRED.UP. Thursday night, my confidence began to wane as Friday went on. I played out the scenario over and over in my head and may have made a few notes about what I would say. Kind of a script, if you will. And I was gonna lay the guilt on so goooooooooooodddddddd.
I drove over to their house/place of business after I got off work. The last time I went over there, Caroline was home and her husband wasn't so I was fully prepared/nervous to talk to her. I pulled up in the driveway and prepared my proof: The battalion ceremony program, the obituary in the newspaper, Chris' dog tags and one of the bags of his clothes.
That's right. A bag of his clothes. Gotta go big or go home right?
High on nerves and rage, I marched around the house and to their front door. I plopped the bag down and had it open so a couple of his shirts were exposed. I knocked on the door and the husband, Hassan, answered. He REEKED of alcohol and had only the top two buttons of his shirt buttoned, so that I could see ALL KINDS of belly. I was thoroughly grossed out but I wasn't going to let this break my concentration.
Me: Is Caroline here?
Hassan: No she isn't.
Me: Well, Hassan, I guess you got the short of the stick in this situation. I am here because your wife has twice demanded that she needed proof that "the guy is dead". So, here I am. I have his program from the ceremony in GA, his obituary, his dog tags and a bag of his clothes since he won't be needing them anymore. Is this thorough enough for you?
Hassan: *makes hand gestures trying to get me to stop* No really, this isn't necessa-
Me: No. You don't get to talk. You've been talking for months now. It's my turn to talk. You're wife is disgusting. Do you have ANY idea how that makes me feel that she's demanding proof?!?! What kind of person does that?!?! My family is being treated appallingly and the fact that she has said this TWICE is beyond offensive. And then to act like she's sorry when it's to my face??!? I don't think so! I don't particularly have an issue with you, Hassan, but I have an issue how you run your business and I have a huge fucking problem with your disgusting wife.
Hassan: I'm so sorry. I haven't even talked to my wife, I don't-
Me: This has been going on since June 16th! You were notified the day after it happen. It's OCTOBER! That's embarrassing. I'm embarrassed that you run your business this way and I'm embarrassed that I chose you. Do you realize that on top of my grief and mourning that I now have to deal with this stress on top of everything else? Because you all can't run your business, I am unable to put to rest this fucking circus of a wedding. THE DATE IS PASSED!
Hassan: I will call your father immediately. 301-***-****. 301-***-****
Me: The fact that you have that number memorized just shows that this has gone on way too long. And I hope you do call him and figure this out. I also expect a personal apology from your disgusting wife.
Hassan: Look, I'm-
Me: Do you all also realize I'm 26. And I'm alone. (At this point I am shaking from all the rage and I can feel tears prickiling in my cheeks. "PLEASE LET ME CRY!" I kept thinking.) I have to COMPLETELY start over. Do you know how that feels? No. You don't. You got to get married and have children. I wasn't afforded that luxury. So thanks for making this situation a total and complete loss, not to mention a total and complete hell.
Hassan: I'm so sorry *gestures for hug*
Me: Don't touch me. I am leaving.
And I grabbed my bag and made my dramatic departure.
No sooner than when I got in my car and called my dad, he was already on the phone. He called me back a few minutes later and told me that he had just gotten off the phone with Hassan. He said that Hassan apologized profusely and that he would talk to Caroline and call my dad in the morning with a plan. Which, kind of happened but the phone call didn't happen until the afternoon. Hassan said that he would pay us something when he gets paid Thursday or Friday.
I gotta tell ya, THAT FELT AWESOME! I felt like I had freed some of the rage that I've had inside me the past four months. I was a little bummed that I couldn't do that to Caroline but oh well. That was probably a gift since I might have choked up a bit with her, but, who knows. I felt glorious and composed during my rage purge. Not to mention, clever as SHIT with my "props" (feel a little guilty calling them props but the thespian in me can't help it. i set one dramatic scene).
I'll be sure to keep you updated on it we actually get our money this week and if I get my apology. I've already cooked up my response :-)
