I have had the great fortune of having some cool jobs in my time. I have traveled pretty much all over the US. I have raised a lot of money for various charities, and I have produced a TON of special events. From small to enormous, my resume is littered with myriad marketing activitations and programs.
Some of these are very prosaic; cocktail parties and galas. Some a little more obscure: Telethons and Tailgate Tours. At this point in my career, I feel like there are very few stones that I have left unturned in the event department (except for weddings, which I have no interest in planning because I would not willingly take on other people's drama if they weren't a BFF or a relative - keep your crazy to yourself Bridezilla).
Last night however took it to a new level. Last night I produced a "Suture Clinic". What is that you ask? Well, I'll tell you. A Suture Clinic is when you enlist very helpful doctors (thank you Dr. Pearlstein & Dr. Yang) and they instruct a bunch of pre-meds (age 17 - 22) how to do actual sutures/stitches...on pig's feet. According to my sources, pig skin is extremely close in texture to human skin. So this event is like a glimpse ahead into medical school. It gets the nerdy pre-meds all atwitter (I can say that since I was one). Apparently one of our offices in Texas did it last year and it was a HUGE success, so of course the powers that be wanted it replicated at UCLA.
I got some emails from my boss about supplies I needed to buy from Medical Supply websites and where to get pig's feet and some powerpoint presentations etc. Well, the instructions weren't exactly clear and I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to find the exact right instruments to use etc. I spent so much time on that aspect that I waited to the last minute to actually order the pig's feet. Per my boss, I could just call the nearest supermarket and the butcher department could take care of it.
So Thursday I called the Ralph's in Westwood nearest my office, where the event was taking place, and asked to speak to the Meat Department. When someone got on the phone, I said "Hi. I know this is a weird request, but I need to order 75 pig's feet". The butcher on the phone responded in an annoyed tone "Why?" I said "I am doing this workshop for some pre-meds at UCLA and I need the pig's feet for a project. Is it possible to get them by Tuesday afternoon?" It was at this point that the guy really laid in to me saying that for a special order like that I would need to call AT LEAST 2 weeks in advance but he would prefer a month because there is no way his distributor could handle that kind of an order on short notice and that I should really do a better job of planning for this kind of thing. He basically scolded me for the better part of 5 minutes like I had broken the Brady Bunch vase by playing ball in the house.
Putting aside the fact that as a potential customer I probably should'nt be spoken to that way instead, I turned to my fear. I had 130 RSVPs for an event that was happening in 4 days and nothing for them to suture on...I was SCREWED! I paniced and apologized to him for some stupid reason and I asked "Do you have any ideas as to where I might be able to find them?" He told me to try calling one of the hispanic supermarket chains like Superior (pronounced SU-PEER-E-ORE) and brusquely hung up on me.
I immediately started googling Superior Markets in LA and I was just about to call and break out my rusty Spanish when I decided to make one last effort and I called the Ralph's across the street from my house. I got the Meat Department and had this exchange:
Me: Hi! I know this sounds weird but I need order 75 pig's feet for Tuesday morning.
Mike the Butcher: Yeah, sure. What time do you need them by?
We then went on to have a very pleasant conversation where I explained why I needed them and he made some jokes and then placed my order. He then called me on MONDAY morning to tell me my order had arrived. On Tuesday morning when I made it to the market he not only brought out the pig's feet and loaded the packages in to my cart, but he also gave me a discount and wished me luck on my event.
Moral of this story is: It takes just as much effort to be a nice guy as it does to be a schmoe, so why you gotta be a d*ck?
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| These little piggies DEFINITELY went to market |
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