Let me tell you about that thing that happened a few weeks ago and that I promised some nice people on the internet I would write down in more detail than Twitter permits.
Since none of us was there for all of this, I’ve put the following together from the memories of three people.
Once again, my partner (F) and I were traveling with a very good friend (referred to as a Long Streak of Nothing – LSN) in the somewhat amusing constellation of being friends but also having them as our boss and client, and us being paid for stepping in if they’re about to do something ill-advised and making sure they’re getting through the weekend in one piece and, ideally, not coming out any worse for wear at the other end.
This particular situation vaguely started as we were doing our first day in the event, which was going reasonably smoothly for us while LSN had some fun trolling a buddy of theirs (not really my problem, if they’re saying he’ll be fine with it then I’m going to believe that until and unless proven differently). Among the event-typical issues that are barely avoidable, one thing stood out repeatedly: One of the other guests (G) didn’t seem to get along great with his assistant.
That’s where things are starting to get difficult for me as I have to keep reminding myself – not my circus…
Now, usually, we’re booked to provide the Pas (personal assistants) for the entire event and I’m located somewhere between team management and team lead – and in any case in a place where my job would include going over and asking if things are quite alright or if we need to swap PAs around in this that sort of situation. I’ve certainly done that in the past with other people.
In this case, we’re not part of the event operation as such, but ONLY LSN’s privately hired PAs, brought along because they have reasons to have little trust in the staff provided by the promoter. So a.) this is none of my business and b.) interfering with a running event as an outsider generally is NOT a great idea.
So the only thing to do is pull myself together – though in particular in light of the fact that G. is dealing with a body rendered widely uncooperative by a stroke suffered in the past and, for particular reasons had some more than usual difficulties controlling his own wheelchair that weekend, meaning that he had to doubly rely on his “PA”’s cooperation, there were a few moments where I was rather close to getting up and asking some questions after all. That’s the sort of situation where you just NEED a good fit – and when it’s my job to make sure that everyone has a PA by their side that they are comfortable with, that’d be the sort of situation I would have an extra-close eye on. As it is, I make myself stay put and remind myself G. is all grown up and likely perfectly well able to handle the situation. And anyway, most likely he’s bringing his own staff just as LSN does, and quite honestly, the way we interact with them isn’t always the most professional when viewed from the outside. We’ve been chastised by promoter’s staff for our way of talking to them before, too (needlessly so, but of course the promoter did not have any way of knowing that we’re not just hired staff but rather bordering on found-family-adopted siblings… which, yes, causes our interaction to be a good deal less professional than it would be with someone who’s “just” a client.)
From the beginning, our plan had been spending the night out in a pub with LSN’s previously-trolled buddy (B) and at least one of his local friends (Basti), with the latter choosing the pub. B’s extended the idea that – “the more the merrier” - we should use the big dinner to ask around and see who else might like to join us. Alright then.
The event closes for the day and we have the option of either going to hunt our own food or to joint the big pre-organized dinner for all staff. That’s where we go with B, sitting at a table with some of B’s colleagues who immediately agree to come along to the pub later. At one point, G. and his “PA” come in. They sit at a small table off to the side where they’re on their own. The three of us exchange some looks. It seems weird, but … circus and all of that. Surely he’ll speak up if he doesn’t want to do it that way, right?
At one point, B. loudly asks if anyone else would like to join us. Apart from his colleagues, there’s one other couple raising their hands – and so is G. His “PA” immediately starts gesturing “no” at him. Still not our circus. We nod his way, briefly go through the relevant items mentally: are we going to need an additional car due to greater space requirement, where to park for getting in, B., can you text Basti and ask if the pub is properly accessible, and if it isn’t to find another one? Thanks.
As the dinner is drawing to a close and everyone’s just sitting there chatting anymore, we decide it’s about time for us to get going. In 20 minutes, maybe? At this point, G. is sitting at his table all on his own. F. goes over to tell him we’re about to get ready to leave. He comes back to tell us that G. says he’s not coming but “it felt off”. Could one of us go over and ask (F.’s English is fine but he’s not a native speaker and he’s not always very confident in his language skills).
LSN gets up and goes over, half-expecting G. to simply be completely done in after a day of working the event – but he isn’t. If anything, he’s amused by the degree of exhaustion that bit of event is causing in several of the “Young People”. LSN asks if G. isn’t feeling like hanging out with us “Young People” then. G. says no of course that wouldn’t be a problem. LSN promises to shut up and leave if told to, but expresses some confusion about the change of decision, if G. isn’t tired and doesn’t mind the company. G. gives him a look and points out that “well, USUALLY the idea is that people ask [him] but it’s tacitly understood that [he] will decline so as to avoid giving anyone the feeling they’re excluding [him] on purpose and still not being in the way.” And that, yeah, he shouldn’t have said “yes” before.
LSN beckons us over, shares that. We make clear that if we’re inviting “free for all” then we MEAN “free for all” and G. is more than welcome to join. I say, maybe a bit impatiently, that really all I need to know is whether to park the car out front (little time to get in) or around the back (plenty of time to get in). G. looks back and forth between us with a sort of “Let’s see how you’ll wriggle out of this one” look and says: “Around the back.”
It’s sometime between 7:30 and 8 PM at this point, by the way.
People pack up. B. and I go to get the cars.
In the meantime, G’s “PA” returns, finds out that there has been a “change of plan” and goes OFF: No, there is NO WAY G. can come along with us, what an outrageous idea on his side (and ours) and ANYWAY if he’s done eating she’s going to take him to his room and put him to bed now. (All of that loudly in front of everyone still present.)
Erm.
LSN sends F. to go and tell B. and me that it’ll take a while. F., knowing me, tells me that I might want to come back in. B. joins us. We return to LSN and one Tom demonstratively blocking the path to the other door, while G. is trying to argue with his “PA”, who keeps cutting him off (talking is fine; talking *fast* is difficult).
She looks around, looks at ME – maybe because she thinks I look like I might be on her side or maybe because I’m the only other person in the group she thinks she can identify as female, who knows – and says: “Say something!”
There is exactly one thing I have to say in that situation, and I’ll gladly say that loud and clearly: You don’t send an adult person to bed at eight against their will and wish just because it’s convenient for you. Period.
LSN gives me a broad grin and notes that he’s happy to have seen me angry for once.
I inform him that the “escalator” has barely moved yet.
The “PA” points out that *she* wants her well-deserved evening off.
B. tells her in the most annoyed tone that she’s free to do that since she’s neither invited nor needed.
G. points out that she’s actually needed because he’s going to need help with a fuckton of things and won’t be able to get into bed without help later.
Brief coordination leads to the general consensus that we have plenty of people who can help out if he’s comfortable enough with having a total stranger help him. If not, that is, of course, understandable.
G. notes that most of the people present are far less of strangers to him than the lady is since HIS usual assistant had been unable to join him this weekend and this “PA” had been provided by the promoter, apparently hired from some local care agency. (And that explains more than it doesn’t about why things had seemed off – she didn’t have the first idea of *our* sort of job and very little interest in doing *hers* properly). G’s conclusion: Can’t be worse any worse than the last two days, let’s try this.
The ”PA” goes off again, claiming he’s her responsibility, and she couldn’t possibly NOT come along etc. etc.
This gets her exactly the same lecture I would give our own staff in this sort of moment – except that in that case I would have asked them to step outside before laying into them.
While she has a rare speechless moment, B. adds: Stay or come as you like, but *we* are going now.
=> Fast Forward, Pub.
Basti is waiting for us, we quickly explain why we’d taken that long. The “PA” has actually come along and does her best to be in the way.
The first attempt of placing orders is cut short because the waiter at our table clearly has issues with serving a visibly disabled guest. The entirely impossible “What’s he going to have” ends with switch of waiters to someone who is actually willing to do their job properly. (I have very little patience for this sort of thing, and the preceding part of that evening had not helped). Like most of the others, G. is ordering a glass of whiskey. The “PA” immediately cuts him off again, insisting that that’s entirely impossible and of course he can’t have any alcohol! LSN and F. had things to say about my facial expression there afterwards. I look at G., who waves his hand at me and says “Go on!” (at this point it’s clear that I am far harder to cut off or talk over than he is even if the other party is not cooperating).
I ask the “PA” if she’d like to step outside with me quickly.
She all but screams at me that she would certainly not do that, and suspects that I might not want everyone else to hear what I’m going to say to her.
Apart from the fact that they all know exactly what I’m going to say (or at least have a very good idea of it), that was meant to be one last bit of consideration for her rather than tearing her a new one in front of everyone. But I am happy to oblige. [Insert lecture on assistant’s job, decision-making rights of mature adults, limits of assistant’s competencies and a helping of ‘you may get some leeway in terms of enforcing promoter’s rules against your charge’s wishes WITHIN the event but this is not within the event, which means that the only person deciding what G. is doing or not is G. himself – and G’s assistant will either assist or get out of the way. The poor waiter, who was still standing there, may have caught a strongly worded reminder that the things to be served were to be the things ordered by the people who are going to drink them. That one may not have been necessary. Sorry for that. And yes, that is entirely irrespective of my own thoughts about the necessity of alcoholic beverages.] (Also, this was G.’s last day of the event, so the risk of him having to suffer for it the day after was non-existent. Had that been differently, a more diplomatic approach surely would have been in order.)
“PA” leaves, slamming the door behind her. Half an hour later she’s back with one of the promoter’s people who tried to tear into ME … and in return got a detailed breakdown of things going on and being asked if he actually meant to tell us it was fine to impose an 8-PM-curfew on someone or telling them what to order/drink, etc. (G. once again pointed out that he’d already told her that she could have her night off, he’d manage, and that she wasn’t in any manner required to hang out with us here). At that point, the promoter’s rep pulled her outside for a talk and then apparently left, while she came back and sat at a different table, casting dark glances at us for the rest of the night.
The thing I find the most shocking about the entire evening is G. saying at one point that that was the first time in a decade or so that he was just spending a night out in the pub with people for other than work reasons.
(There were some more bits following that, but that’s another story, to be told another day).
