I can’t believe I’ve never told this story before. Probably because I didn’t want to change the names to protect the guilty.
Well, once upon a time I worked for someone that provided a service that rhymes with art restoration as an apprentice/assistant. I won’t delve into that too deeply, it was a year of my life I’ll never get back but ultimately great real world experience that has brought me to the place that I am today… hmmm. Food for later thought.
Anyways, Ms. Harmon had an object d’arte that required the services of my employer. He took a very,very long time before finally shopped it out. (This, I was to find out, was most typical of the way he did things, hence the me leaving after a year.) Meanwhile, I’m answering email and doing other assistant-like things for near minimum wage and she emails me. I think, oh -my-god-Angie-Harmon’s-emailing-me! But ultimately I end up having to stall for more time. I remember specifically saying to her that the object would be shipped “presently.” (Who talks like that? I must have thought it sounded professional and confident.)
Then the unthinkable happened and the subcontractor broke the damn thing in delivery.
Smacks forehead. We were at square one again. And I just couldn’t tell Angie Harmon what had happened. Damn.
Angie was displeased. Angie chewed me out. Angie wanted to know on what planet “presently” meant another month.
Ultimately, she did get her item. She was pleased with the work.
But every time I see her on television, I remember that she’s out there and she hates me.
That’s all.
