Yes, It Gets Worse

If you are reading this without reading the post below on "How to End Your Marriage" - stop right now. You NEED to read the first part before reading this part. Trust me.

So when we last left the stupidest husband on earth, he was totally fucking over his wife's birthday party. Determined to rescue something of this event, I pressed on with the cake planning. Not surprisingly, this did not go well.  He had grand ideas for all sorts of stuff ... but when I pointed out the limitations (you cannot put a 3D grand piano on top of a cupcake tower unless it's a very small piano) he got a little irriated with me. "You're not working with me, emzee!" - never mind the sheets and sheets of design options I've got there, it's just because I can't make what he wants (small matter of gravity, my friend) that he's not all that impressed. I can deal with this - part of my job is telling people what IS possible.

Yeah. That assumes clients with SOME concept of reality. We were not getting very far and believe me, I was really trying to rescue this thing. (Woman to woman, she NEEDED me to make at least one thing decent.)

Finally I say, well, you said she likes matching stuff - so maybe next week when the invite comes out, email it to me and I'll come up with some design options which coordinate. "No, I really just think we should go with what I like."

Wait. Tell me again whose party this is you are ruining?

Anyway we eventually agree (and by agree, I mean I gently force him into the one idea which is not ugly, impossible, or going to cost him thousands) on a design. Then he decides he wants a figurine of her on the cake - so I need details, right? Hard to make a figurine look like someone unless you have some idea as to their appearance.

He tells me she has brown hair, kinda wavy, and sorta long-ish.

He tells me she has no favourite clothes or colours, and spends all her days in track suit pants and moccossins so we should put her in those (remember? The baby. I forgive her, but not him. I am NOT making a figurine with track suit and moccossins. It's her birthday for cripes sake.)

He tells me that he does not care what the figurine looks like, because ANYWAY it's HER birthday and people will know it's meant to be her.

At this point, I decide this woman needs SOME shred of dignity left in her party-that-wasn't so I ask to see a picture of her for reference purposes.

I'm very glad I did that.

She's BLOND. With straight hair. And a bob which goes just to her chin.

I saw more than one photo so I know it wasn't a one-off.

I EVEN saw a photo of her holding said baby as a newborn, and let me tell you, she is as blond and straight haired as it is possible to be. She's also wearing nice clothes, has jewellery on, and basically looks like somoene who does not deserve to be married to Moron Of The Year.

*sigh*

Eventually - and at this point, I've aged rather a few years - we get to the end of the consult, and I tell him the price. It's something like $380 (or an odd number in any case.)

"Well," he says, "I like it, but I'd like it MUCH more if there was just a zero next to that 3."

"Well," I say, "I like you, but I'd like you MUCH more if you were not as dumb as two short planks, but we do not always get what we want, do we?"

(Okay. I didn't say it. I wanted to, but I didn't. I just explained that we charge what we do because we are worth it.)

He then proceeds to make the cupcake tower smaller by more than 20% because, "It's not like anyone will notice if not everyone gets one, right? I mean nobody eats cupcakes, do they? No big deal if there are like 20 people who don't have one, whatever, they'll miss out." Me, I'm thinking 20 out of 50 people not getting a bit of the only dessert...will look bad, but hey, what do I know of these things?

OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, am I *that* shit of a person that the Universe feels the need to send me clients like these?!

Oh wait. Without them, I wouldn't have two fabulously ridiculous blog posts!

Universe, bring on the stupids!