Drunk Monkey

Unrelated to the fact that I work part-time for Statistics Canada, I actually have a deep fondness for statistics....which, when you think about it, is probably why I really went to work there in the first place. It is such a fluid science...sometimes the results are very black and white, ie, "and therefore we know beyond a fact this is true", and sometimes the information isn't black and white, and leads to discussion and thought, ie, "look at those results, I wonder what caused them. Let's talk about it." Love it love it love it.

The part about statistics I don't enjoy is the part that, frankly, relates to winning the lottery. For those of you without access to a calculator (or those who don't remember the "probability" lesson from high school math), the odds of winning "6-49" are about 1 in 13 million. Odds of winning "Super 7" skyrocket to one in 120 million or so. (Approx number is because, while I DO understand probability, I currently DON'T have access to a calculator.)

We buy lottery tickets on a pretty regular basis all the same. It has been many years since I realized we aren't actually spending $4 on the chance of winning millions, we are spending $4 on the ten minutes of pleasure we get, dreaming about winning. And, for 4 bucks, I think we are getting a pretty good deal. There are many things in life we will never be able to do financially, but I really get a charge out of hearing all the things Mario would do, with me or for me, if we had the means. It may just be a silly, unrealistic conversation, but it reminds me, yet again, that he puts my happiness and interests before anything. (Lordy Lordy, you should HEAR about the scrapbook room he'd like to build me!)

So, for me, buying lottery tickets is usually a happy, positive thing.

And then there are the days like today, when I buy them with an impulsive "Oh GOD get me out of here and let me quit my job" mentality.

Nothing "bad" happened today, but I must admit I took quite a bit of offense to something my general manager did to me today. I guess now is the time to explain that, in my full-time career, I am a meeting planner; I plan conventions, organize gala dinners, cater to any celebrity clients and all their requirements, etc. Essentially, you give me a general idea of what you want, I will flesh out the details and make it happen.

Today I had a menu tasting for a gala, very important evening for our company (and for our client, of course!). My general manager had indicated that he wanted to stop in for a few minutes simply to meet my clients, no problem. He happened to still be there when the first course was presented, no big deal.

As usual, I began the critical discussion of the food. (Aside: people are often so intimidated by the fact that A Chef Prepared This that they don't want to say something if they don't like it. By NO means do I attack the food -- I love our food -- but it IS my job to get them talking about it.) So I said something along the lines of how I liked the colours in the salad and found the presentation of the blackened avacado an interesting touch. And they were off, some saying they loved the presentation and taste, some saying they liked the presentation but not so keen on the vinaigrette, etc. Things I need to hear so I can make sure they get what they want.

At this point, GM offers his opinion, which was very welcome; I know an awful lot about food, but he knows more. He made an observation that hadn't occurred to me, but I immiediately saw his point and totally agreed with him. All good.

Second course arrives, I am once again discussing different aspects of the dish, clients are once more in to what's going on. Then GM needs to leave for another meeting.

He chooses this moment to pledge to them that HE will speak to Chef about the presentation, HE will suggest a different garnish, HE will personally make sure the menu is flawless, HE wants to make sure the event is a complete success.

To be fair, he is a great guy who often praises my work and has total confidence in me. But after these astounding statements, I actually saw two of the four clients glance quickly at me with a look of surprise, as if to say, "Oh, but now you're going to leave us here with someone who must not know what they're doing???"

He completely undermined me, and never knew for one second what he had done. Plus he had suggested enhancements to the menu which, while lovely, are NOT in their budget, but now they have thier hearts set on them, and I'm going to have to be the bad guy. (and no, he did not ask me at any time what the budget was.)

Later on, this SAME DAY, I had another meeting with clients-- a meeting HE had called, please do know I was simply invited to the meeting, I'm not angry about that part-- when he pulled the same stunt again.

In both cases, I know exactly what his motivation was: he has been here less than a year, and he truly only wanted my clients to know he was personally interested in the success of their functions. Very noble, commendable, and necessary. He just could have thought about it a little bit more before he spoke.

By 4 pm today, I was ready to pack it in. I knew I was overreacting, but all I could think was, "If the way I am doing my job seems to indicate that a drunk monkey could do it, then BE MY GUEST. Here are my keys, here are my files, and here's my password to the network. Knock yourself out."

And so at 5pm, I bought a lottery ticket.