Joan, an acquaintance of mine, owns a small catering
business. Most of her work consists of wedding receptions. Like most small
businesses these days, hers is right on the edge of profitability: she cannot
afford to hire someone. She, her husband, and their two grown children do
virtually all the food preparation, set up, serving and take down. They don’t
make the fancy wedding cake.
Recently Joan told me of a disaster of a wedding.
The bride-to-be contracted her to cater the reception.
How many people would be invited to the reception? Joan
asked.
“Oh, I think about 70-80 people.”
That was a little bit more than Joan is able to handle
without hiring a temp to work, something she’s done in the past with varying
results.
“I usually don’t do parties that large.” she said.
The girl started crying. “You’re the third caterer I’ve
talked to, the other two didn’t want to do it.”
Joan thought, uh, oh. She knew the other two caterers, and
they, like her, usually didn’t turn down a gig unless the bride didn’t have the
money to pay. She prepared to turn the girl down.
“I usually do smaller
parties. If I do yours, I’ll have to hire two more people. That’s going to cost
you more.”
“I have the money, I swear it.”
The girl had the money. The problem was that the girl
demanded an all vegetarian meal. No meat whatsoever, not even salmon.
“You might want to have something like ham or turkey as a
courtesy to your guests that are not vegetarian.”
“It’s MY wedding. I’ve been a vegan (she pronounced it
“vee-gun”) for five years. I won’t eat meat. It’s disgusting, just the smell of
it makes me sick.”
Joan realized now why her competitors had turned the girl
down.
She tried to tell the girl that many people eat meat, and
that having some form of meat available for her guests would make for a nice
reception.
The girl turned into a shrew. She proceeded to tell Joan in
great and unnecessary detail the sins of eating meat, until finally Joan
decided, I don’t need this.
“I’m sorry, then, I can’t cater your reception. I’d end up
throwing away an awful lot of food, and that is a sin, too.”
The girl started crying again. She was desperate, couldn’t
Joan see, how could Joan eat an animal, didn’t she understand?
Joan DID understand, all too well. Here was a Bridezilla,
just one of many she’s seen over the years. The best way to get rid of them was
to hit them with an outrageous price.
She did the math for hiring two extra people, added a hefty
addition for her trouble, effectively tripling her normal price, and “I’ll do
it for $------“
To her dismay and astonishment, the girl stopped crying and
said DEAL.
Wisely, Joan got her payment up front.
Because on the day of the wedding, the trays of eggplant and
tofu and quinoa, all the vegetarian dishes the girl had insisted on having,
went uneaten.
Only twenty people showed up, just the immediate families
who were probably obligated to attend or who were members of the wedding party. As Joan had warned, she had to throw away virtually all of the food.
To say the bride was upset was putting it mildly.
Joan said, “I feel so sorry for the groom. He came up,
looked at the food and said, “There’s nothing to eat here.”
Her husband said, “You know, if he’s smart, he could get an annullment."
