The war of the Golden Roses.

Last night was the night of the Australian Christmas Party to end all parties. Lof and I were on course for a stress free, easy and relaxing evening. Yes, we had a lot to set up but the hall was booked, the decorations and food bought and costumes ready to worn.

After getting the key for the Hopwood Village Hall from the manager, having been shown around, after changing a light bulb, learning how the heating worked and agreeing that we would be tidy by 11:30 LOf and I booked into the hotel next door and then set off back to Redditch to pick up the rest of the stuff required for a cracking party.

When we got back some old ladies had let themselves into the hall and we telling my parents that they had booked it a year ago. :0 Not good.
Now, unlike nice, caring old ladies who have manners these evil women had decided already that my party was cancelled. This was made very clear from the moment they opened the boots of the Volvos and removed boxes of sandwiches and table cloths. – Anger rising now…
LOF was trying frantically to get hold of the manager of the hall who had convieniantly decided to pop out for an hour. So no-one to solve the arguments the evil ladies of the “golden rose” began to instruct us to cancel the band because they had booked a disco and began to set up their tables.

BREATH –> In with love out with hate–>

Now part of me was thinking oh good they’re setting up the tables for me. Thank you very much and the other half of me wanted to scream, shout, cry and throw an enormous tantrum. I sent LOF to talk to the manager’s neighbours on the off chance that they may be able to get hold of her. Instead the lady he discovered was much more useful. She organised another hall for us. At this point (45 mins on) I was getting angrier than an angry thing without chocolate.

I made my anger very clear to the roses who replied with “be reasonable” ME? Be reasonable – what about you?? She said that she couldn’t cancel it – she couldn’t possibly phone all her guests and who would pay for the DJ? Her guests had paid £5 a ticket and she had access to the hall 3 times a week.. BLAH BLAH BLAH – Yes — but I’ve paid to use the hall tonight.

In the end a decision had to be made. Do we sit and argue with the battleaxe for another 2 hours and wait until the guests begin to arrive or do we cut our loses and sort the situation out – We still need to set up and now we need to re-direct people. The sooner the better.

I asked the gang to get everything back into the car and was told by the generous woman that she wouldn’t begrudge my using the oven. – F()^^* off!

We marched to the manager’s neighbours house and were escorted to the Alevechurch Village – hall – T minus 2 hours!!! ARGHHHHhhh


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