The View from Beneath the Tree

I'm still blaming J.Lo for this one.....

At the end of every event, while the dancing and the partying is going on I like to take a few quite moments to see the party like it was meant to be seen. I find a place somewhere slightly removed to appreciate and take it all in.

One particular evening, I was standing near a large tree on the property. One of those big beautiful oaks that are perfectly up lit on the edge of the party. From where I was, I could see the dancefloor banging, the glow of the twinkle lights and flicker of the candles. It felt perfect, it felt successful and it felt so good.

Then a body literally dropped out of that oak tree and landed right next to me. It scared the shit out of me (not literally).

The body was that of a man who was moving, wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat and his pants were around his ankles. He apparently had thought that climbing the tree to get a bird’s eye view of the party while relieving himself was a good idea. Luckily for me, he didn’t make it that far or I may have been on the receiving end of his relieving. Unluckily for him, he fell before he could go from the tree but he must have gone on the way down.

You know those old cartoons when a cat gets scared, it screams and jumps? That was me. I must have yelped quite loudly as security was over before I could fully process what was happening.

Just like that my calm moment vanished and I went back to typical planner mode. We checked to make sure he was physically ok, had him get his wet pants up and fastened, got his name and where he was staying then security whisked him off to get him onto a shuttle (sitting on a garbage bag to keep the seat dry and holding a bucket to keep the shuttle dry).

Crisis averted, a few chuckles with my team and security then my little dark tree corner became calm again and I got to take it all in again.

A few minutes later as my team and I were about to start the long process of the end of the evening a woman approached me, scanning the area with apparent urgency. “I’m looking for my Husband have ya’ll seen him, he is wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat” (not exactly what she said but you know what I mean).

With soft smile on my face I gently but plainly explained that he had to be removed from the event after falling from the tree with his pants down while attempting to use said tree as his high-rise restroom.

Silence.

Her expression shifted from an urgent worry to, well I am just not sure but I could see wheels turning. Instead of normal embarrassment or frustration towards him that I expected, her eyes narrowed at me. She asked how I knew that his pants were down and what had I been up to with her husband. The implication was clear. In her wine-filled version of the story, I had not simply been standing under the tree. I had somehow entangled myself in something deeper and more scandalous. There is nothing like being the sober villain in someone’s drunken drama. It was a strange few moments, standing there being accused of possibly having a quicky with this woman’s husband. Like the attraction was so so strong in the brief moments of my very busy day, that I just couldn’t contain myself. Ha! Even as I write this I am still laughing out loud. I mean what’s not to be attracted to a inebriated, middle-aged man who just fell out of a tree, pissed himself and could barely speak?

I know what you are thinking here, it’s truly amazing what a long day of drinking can do to someone who may have some confidence and relationship issues. Believe me I was thinking the same thing.

Then she came at me. Got right up in my face and started yelling about that was her man. Listen, after a long day of making sure everything was perfect, not eating more than a roll and a sip of coffee, I was thrilled that security intervened immediately. the conversation was over faster than it started and the wife was whisked off to the shuttle to “go find her man”.

And just like that, the party (that had no idea this was even happening) kept going, music blaring, booties shaking, people enjoying like nothing even happened.

Again, we can chuckle and shrug our shoulders here. I mean as a wedding planner we see it all right? But what stayed with me was not the spectacle it was the fragility underneath it.

Alcohol has a way of loosening more than inhibitions. It obviously loosens judgement and sometimes it exposes cracks that were already there. A man doesn’t climb a tree at a formal event because he feels steady and grounded. A partner doesn’t accuse the wedding planner of betrayal without carrying something unresolved (or maybe the partner watched The Wedding Planner one too many times, thanks J.Lo).

I get to see joy in it’s most concentrated form but I also get to see people overindulge in an attempt to amplify that joy.

The moral of the story is not about climbing the tree or the fall.

The moral of this story is that if someone drinks to the point of tumbling out of a tree with their pants around their ankles and their significant other’s first instinct is to suspect infidelity with the poor, tired wedding planner maybe it’s time to reconsider the relationship with alcohol. And it was time for the poor tired wedding planner to add a clause in her contract that if a guest abuses the wedding planner or her team they will be removed from the party and/or the wedding planner will remove herself and her team from the event.

Because, no event, no planner and certainly no poor beautiful tree should have to absorb the consequences of that much unaddressed chaos.

Cheers Ya’ll.