for those of you living outside of texas, or even for those of you living inside of texas and haven't had the opportunity to enjoy the experience of central market, just know that it's a grocery store of imported and sometimes organic products. it's possibly one of the coolest places i frequent. and i say this after having not worked there for over 3 years.
in the floral department, i was able to learn an awful lot about not only different types of flowers and vegetation from all over the state, the country and the world, but how to care for them. that and how to create floral designs (which was the funnest part).
i took a nap this afternoon.
it was the night of the big event that had been on the books for months. all of manahattan's elite society would be there. everyone that all of manhattan's elite society was currently doing would be there, too. we being a small but growing catering firm, needed to really be on our game. there would be no room for screw-ups tonight.
i was the newest and youngest employee to the firm, and my job wasn't very specific. i wore many hats, i guess.
hey, take this order.
hey, handle that customer.
hey, interview this chef.
and sometimes i worked directly with the head of the company, who had no face, but i understood that he was a raging asshole with a short fuse.
as i'm doing my rounds through each room, making sure that everything is running smoothly, i bust into the backroom where all of the real chaos is going on. all of the guys are scrambling and yelling out different things; none of which i can really understand, but i'm sure they knew what they meant. "GOD DAMMIT, WHERE IS THE ARRANGEMENT?! I TOLD YOU TO HAVE IT HERE. WHERE IS IT?" the boss wasn't yelling at anyone in particular, but rather the entire crew. none of them seemed to really be absorbing his verbal abuse the way he'd like them to. apparently the floral arrangement(s) that were supposed to be the centerpiece to an entire display in the main hall had disappeared, and the boss was none too pleased.
"GET ANOTHER ONE IN HERE. NOW."
"we've all tried getting florists to help us out. they all know we work for you, none of them will help. they refuse. and they recognize all of us!" another worker was trying to explain how the boss had screwed himself into the ground by being the dick that he is.
"well, i'll go. they don't know me, and i can go to a nearby shop and get a new piece"
"GO. DO IT. THERE'S A SHOP AROUND THE CORNER. HERE'S $50. GO"
$50? really?... dammit, if i'm kicking in for this, they better pay me back...
(even in my dreams-- i'm broke.)
i ask a few passersby where this floral shop is. they pass me one by one, and i ask every one of them where to go. even though each one answers me with the same accurate directions, i still feel the need to ask the next one walking by where to go.
i step inside the shop where a wide enough selection of flowers are displayed in their respective buckets and bouquets. of course, though, i walked into the only manhattahn flower shop where a bunch of old, slow, southern grannies are running the show. even though i'm obviously in a rush, they're moving like molasses in winter.
"i need a big arrangement... or was it two arrangements?... maybe it was just one.... ummmm... shit, just make it two, and i'll have extra if he only wants one..." (better safe than sorry, and i'd find a way to be compensated....)
"ok, sugar what'dja like?"
"i need something big and chic for the event around the block. bold colors. scent doesn't really matter. we need curly willow. MAKE SURE THERE'S CURLY WILLOW!" why i was so hell-bent on having curly willow involved, i'm not really sure. "do you need me to de-thorn roses? i know how. i can help. i was a florist. COME ON, COME ON, LADY. LET'S GO!" i was becoming more and more like my boss, and less and less popular with these grannies. but at this point i didn't care. time was ticking.
the old gals started to work, pulling vases down off the shelves.
"i don't know if we can really help you, hon. i mean, we have a lot of called-in orders that we have to get out..." the most brightly colored granny of the bunch began. (yeah- for some reason the other women, and even the flowers seemed dulled in color. but this woman was in like technicolor.)
"you mean you don't take emergency orders?"
"well, we have one arrangement in the books specifically for this event, so it's probably for your people..." her draw made the sentence feel like it took an eternity to get out of her mouth.
"WHATEVER. IF IT'S OURS LETS JUST GET IT GOING. I'M LATE."
i turned around to see the arrangements the women in the back were making.
"here we gooooo!" one of them said with a sugar-coated voice. i looked in confused horror at the two vases in front of me. each one stood less than a foot off the table. they were solid navy blue ceramic bowl shaped urns jam packed with pink carnations.
and curly willow.
"what the hell is this?" i asked, not really wanting to know the response.
the colorful one chuckled, took the $50 out of my pocket and said, "whatever. it's yours. take it. you're late."
dedicated to mayra, who kept me sane on the rough days and was just plain great to have on all the other days.
-k
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