There’s a function facility in South County that we’ve done a few weddings at over the past year and a half, and it’s a beautiful, unique location right on the water. (Of course, there is no such thing as ‘South’ county in Rhode Island but we are not even slowed by cartographic misnomers.) Two little old ladies work there; they watch the door, greet visitors and point to the elevators to show them where to go. I’m not sure that they do anything else, actually, but they seem very nice in a grandmotherly way. Also, they consistently attempt to cut us off early so they can go home.
The first time it happened, we thought there was some sort of mixup with scheduling. It can happen, since sometimes there are three different time lines going: ours, the function coordinator’s, and the caterers. And so when they came to us during a wedding with an 11:00PM end and told us that we were supposed to be done at 10:30, we panicked. There was a lot of back and forth with the caterer and the father of the bride before it was resolved, and I think we did in fact end that night at 10:45. We were there again recently and hadn’t even started playing before one of them tottered over to the band (we had no idea they ever left their posts by the door) and started in.
“Now, you know you’re supposed to be finished at 10:30, young man. Make sure you time the last dance so that we can put the lights up and start letting people out!”
“Our contract says 11:00 ma’am,” said C. He was ready this time, and was already pulling the contract when she replied, “Oh, now that sounds like a mistake to me,” and sauntered away, audibly clicking her tongue. We were finishing our soundcheck a few minutes later when the photographer came over, visibly upset, and asked, “why wasn’t I informed that we’re ending at 10:30?” Sneaky little sweet-looking grandma was trying to undercut us. We had to bring in the father of the bride, the mother of the bride, the groom, the bride, the photographer and the caterer to sort it through. At the end of the night we did the last dance and then, right as they put the lights up, C shouted “let’s do one more song!” I’m not really certain what it says about us that we wanted to stick it to the old ladies, but I’m sure it’s an unrelated coincidence that the van had a flat tire the next day.
