Am I a part of the cure or a part of the disease?
So, attention to detail must always be paid, but I've been fucking up recently. There, I said it. Recent events have made me off my mark a bit. Now, I'm not one of those fuckers that doesn't own up to their responsibility when they do something wrong; some times I actually enjoy calling myself out.
Now, here i am trying to make sure Pride Weekend goes off without a hitch. I don't want a single fucking ripple. So far, so good right? Umm Mary, get your fucking act together, you have two events booked for the Friday AFTER Pride. Huh? How the hell did that happen?
Yeah, a slight oversight. On one hand we have the makeup date to a previously contracted event and on the other, we have a night that is a part of a bigger whole in which the club is booked for the main event. Umm, my bad.
Does anyone see the irony in this aside from me? By all accounts, the weekend after Pride should make the Club a complete ghost town. I mean, all of Midtown might as well be closed. And, here we have two large scale events dueling it out for the aftermath weekend.
(Scratches head.)
(Blink, blink.)
Maybe Big Daddy was right, perhaps I'm too efficient at my job.
Title and first line lifted from Coldplay's "Clocks."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
My liver told me that you are part of the disease. No question.
Post a Comment