Read Online Confessions of an Event Planner: Case Studies From the Real World of Events--How to Handle the Unexpected and How to Be a Master of Discretion by Judy Allen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Judy Allen
Tags: Travel, Non-Fiction
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foam—I think they’re very happy with the bond and the competitive camaraderie that’s developed among their top sales members. They pulled me aside tonight and asked what we can do to top this next year. Right now I don’t even want to think about that.
DECEMBER 17
We’re standing in Miami Airport now and the scene is not pretty. Fifty grown men just realized that they are moments away from boarding their final plane home and not one of them has bought a gift for their wife or children waiting to greet them at the airport. One man, Mr. Pranked, had tears in his eyes when the thought first hit him. He was the one that actually set them all off in panic mode. Fortunately for them, Miami Airport has shopping for all age groups available, but the minutes are ticking. I see that some of the guys are returning now with arms laden, but many of the goods have “Miami” printed on them, not “Key West.” Should be interesting to hear their explanations.
Unfortunately, I did end up in a position to hear the explanations. Dee Dee, the rest of the program directors and I had picked up our bags, cleared customs and were waiting outside to make sure that no one had lost their luggage. We were standing in the middle of the guys and being introduced to their family members who had come to the airport to pick them up. Tall tales were being told about day and night meetings and particularly hard to hear was how much one man had missed his wife—this was the same “gentleman” who had been having sex openly on the hotel grounds. Sadly, this was the sentiment I was hearing all around me, but I know full well that it was only hours before that they were scrambling madly around the airport in search of a gift, just remembering their loved ones for the first time in days. We were laughingly scolded by the wives and lovers for working their men too hard . . . just look at how exhausted they all seem.
That’s when this job is hardest. Standing still, saying nothing, but knowing the truth. Being a master of discretion is what it is all about. But it didn’t stop Dee Dee from reaching over and pretending to wipe something off of Mr. Instigator’s cheek and remarking on how it looks like he left some soap behind—long pause—when he was shaving. I have to admit the startled look on his face was priceless. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Our job for this program is done. Ah yes, it is a glamorous life we lead, or so it is perceived. Well, maybe it is sometimes, but this wasn’t one of the times. This was more like running a summer weekend camp where boys are encouraged to be boys. I am beat.
I’m enjoying my quiet flight home. After being away doing the pre-con and then being with a group for a number of days it will be so nice to come back home and just veg out. I crave silence—at least a couple of hours of it. I travel more than I am home and I’ll admit that I still haven’t gotten used to there being no turn-down service, chocolate on my pillow or room service to call when I arrive back at my place for what I call my stopover. This time I’ll have just enough days between trips to check in at the office, catch up on things that need my attention and pack for my next destination. Sunny Caribbean, here I come! White sandy beaches, turquoise oceans and palm trees swaying gently . . . just another day at the office. It’s the commute that’s the killer. Oh well. Someone has to do it.
MEETINGS, MAYHEM AND MARGARITAVILLE: Q&A
Group Arrival
Q: Beyond having the group fly down in smaller numbers, what steps could be taken to bring a celebrating, high-energy group under control when they’re traveling to the event?
A: It is always important to have staff fly down with the group as opposed to merely being on hand to check them in at the departure airport and then having advance staff meet them upon arrival. Staff can work with the flight crew to monitor the group. On one such flight, the
DECEMBER 17
We’re standing in Miami Airport now and the scene is not pretty. Fifty grown men just realized that they are moments away from boarding their final plane home and not one of them has bought a gift for their wife or children waiting to greet them at the airport. One man, Mr. Pranked, had tears in his eyes when the thought first hit him. He was the one that actually set them all off in panic mode. Fortunately for them, Miami Airport has shopping for all age groups available, but the minutes are ticking. I see that some of the guys are returning now with arms laden, but many of the goods have “Miami” printed on them, not “Key West.” Should be interesting to hear their explanations.
Unfortunately, I did end up in a position to hear the explanations. Dee Dee, the rest of the program directors and I had picked up our bags, cleared customs and were waiting outside to make sure that no one had lost their luggage. We were standing in the middle of the guys and being introduced to their family members who had come to the airport to pick them up. Tall tales were being told about day and night meetings and particularly hard to hear was how much one man had missed his wife—this was the same “gentleman” who had been having sex openly on the hotel grounds. Sadly, this was the sentiment I was hearing all around me, but I know full well that it was only hours before that they were scrambling madly around the airport in search of a gift, just remembering their loved ones for the first time in days. We were laughingly scolded by the wives and lovers for working their men too hard . . . just look at how exhausted they all seem.
That’s when this job is hardest. Standing still, saying nothing, but knowing the truth. Being a master of discretion is what it is all about. But it didn’t stop Dee Dee from reaching over and pretending to wipe something off of Mr. Instigator’s cheek and remarking on how it looks like he left some soap behind—long pause—when he was shaving. I have to admit the startled look on his face was priceless. He looked like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. Our job for this program is done. Ah yes, it is a glamorous life we lead, or so it is perceived. Well, maybe it is sometimes, but this wasn’t one of the times. This was more like running a summer weekend camp where boys are encouraged to be boys. I am beat.
I’m enjoying my quiet flight home. After being away doing the pre-con and then being with a group for a number of days it will be so nice to come back home and just veg out. I crave silence—at least a couple of hours of it. I travel more than I am home and I’ll admit that I still haven’t gotten used to there being no turn-down service, chocolate on my pillow or room service to call when I arrive back at my place for what I call my stopover. This time I’ll have just enough days between trips to check in at the office, catch up on things that need my attention and pack for my next destination. Sunny Caribbean, here I come! White sandy beaches, turquoise oceans and palm trees swaying gently . . . just another day at the office. It’s the commute that’s the killer. Oh well. Someone has to do it.
MEETINGS, MAYHEM AND MARGARITAVILLE: Q&A
Group Arrival
Q: Beyond having the group fly down in smaller numbers, what steps could be taken to bring a celebrating, high-energy group under control when they’re traveling to the event?
A: It is always important to have staff fly down with the group as opposed to merely being on hand to check them in at the departure airport and then having advance staff meet them upon arrival. Staff can work with the flight crew to monitor the group. On one such flight, the
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