Well, dagnabit, I missed Father’s Day…

And I had something really fun planned. Honest.

But it got lost in the shuffle. The shuffle now being affectionately referred to as “The Great Picnic (Which I Managed to Plan and Retain My Employment by Some Sheer Miracle) of 2009”.

300 people. For 3 hours. In 300 degree heat.

Fabulous.

This project has been not my favorite. Okay, straight up, it’s kept me up at night having “workmares”. If you haven’t heard that term then you have never worked food and beverage service in which case you should be ashamed because there is nothing like working customer service in the FOOD industry to teach you how to treat people.

Really, it ought to be a requirement as passage into adulthood.

Thou must work a minimum of 6 months in a food service related field, preferably somewhere that caters to either children or senior adults (bonus points for both), so you can appreciate those who will serve you in that capacity and all others who work customer service focused jobs.

Because unless you’ve lived it, you’ve got no clue.

I’ve been cussed at by a mother of the groom (look lady, you didn’t answer your stinkin’ cell phone and I CANNOT fit 14 people at a 10 seater – it violates the laws of physics and even more importantly, the laws of personal space), treated like the gum on the bottom of someone’s tennis shoe (I am very sorry but we are very honestly out of hashbrown casserole and yes, I can understand English. I have a whole degree in it, thank you very much), had my butt slapped by an appreciative and rather inebriated father of the bride (seriously, did he really just do that and are there any witnesses) as well as a whole list of other drama filled items I’d just as soon forget.

So, back to the Picnic. There were a lot of opinions to manage. Some I agreed with and some I didn’t. Okay, most I didn’t. There are just some things I refuse to plan. My gosh-awful-cheesy meter only goes so high before I start hyper-ventilating. And really, it’s not very high. Rather low actually. Although, it goes as high as I need it to go to maintain some semblance of peace in my world.

My world being that of wobbly fence straddler. I think I might have mentioned that before.

Or maybe 12 times.

Anyway, Mom called around 5:30 pm on Friday to see if I was… well… alive. No Gratitude Friday post equals Robin is having issues. And that’s pretty true. No Gratitude Friday before a holiday weekend? Chaos has broken out in north Texas.

I managed to escape the chaos only because we came out of the picnic with a seemingly pleased CEO. No guarantee that was the truth but he pretended really well. And seriously, isn’t that all that matters?

So, because I know all 4 of your reading this are dying to see photos, here are some clips from “The Great Picnic of 2009”. I tried to grab some of the actual event and not pictures of some of those 300 people that neither you nor I recognize. Enjoy. Just don’t ask me to plan your gigantic picnic anytime soon. I’m out of the picnic planning market. Until the next one comes along, anyway.