and I am not 18% "grateful"
I'm mightily pissed off tonight. I've signed at least three contracts for the upcoming...thingy...event...and all of them basically say, "No, we won't give your money back even if you die or if your fiance dies or if the world ends" (and in any of those cases I don't think I'd much care about it), "NOR will we give your money back if we do a shoddy job and screw things up, or if we decide to spill acid on your negatives and throw D-CON in the punch bowl." And then all the money is due before the wedding so it's not like you can not pay them if they do a crappy job; you have to either charge to credit card and hope the card takes your side, or pray that they actually are as highly recommended as the reports tell you.
Money doesn't do it for me. I'd rather pay more to not have to use wedding vendors or get married at a location with guest-trodden grass and wine-stained hardwood floors, without the hassle of a contract or wedding insurance or a stupid coordinator who thinks the gold ribbon looks better around the buffet table.
I'm not a lawsuit-happy type; they really would have to purposely poison me and purposely destroy my photos before I'd sue, and even then it would be a hassle. There are too many lawsuits bogging this country down and I would be reticent to add another. But thanks to all the dumbasses in the world, I have to put up with these contracts made especially for them and their whiny little butts.
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And then there's the gratuity. That's the 18% surcharge they tack onto the food bill, as if it weren't already costing you $2 for a pea and $4.50 for a napkin, not even embossed with your names and the date. If you want a tip, do a good job; if not, include it in the price. The "gratuity" isn't given with gratitude, that's for sure.
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I hate that people are making not just money, but a business, out of the most important day in my and my fiance's life. They're in it for money; they don't care who we are as long as we have fat wallets and deep pockets.
I want to be celebrating my fiftieth anniversary, looking back on right now from my front porch, sitting in my rocker with a cup of tea, laughing at the nitwit brides running around signing contracts, simpering nicely to hope for a good deal, worrying about how they'll do their hair and if anything might've been wrong with the pre-nup that will screw them out of the omnipotent money.
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I want a marriage, and I want a wedding; I don't want either of those in the business, selfish way that seems so prevalent.
I've had it up to, uh, here...okay, you can't see me, but my hand is way above my head right now.