My work day is finally over, though the work isn't done. Tomorrow is good enough. With George gone this weekend, I expected a little more peace and quiet than what usually happens. Well, I got the quiet, just not the peace.
It started with a last minute request for a prom alteration. The prom was in two days, but all she needed was for simple sleeves to be narrowed. That's a 10 minute fix. So ok, come on over. But then she wanted it hemmed, but she didn't bring her shoes. How high? Four inches, so I rounded up 4 inches worth of books and had her stand on them. Turns out she didn't need a hem after all. We're long past 10 minutes, and I haven't done the sleeves yet. We set up a return time: the next day at 5pm. After her dance practice. 5pm came by, 5:30, 6:00. I called - no answer. 6:30 I called her mom, who said she was on her way to pick up her daughter, and practice went long. Nobody could have called and let me know? When they got here, I gave them a bit of a stern talk to. No, you couldn't control the rehearsal, I know how that kind of thing happens, but because you were late and I had to be ready to let you in, I couldn't fix my meal, I couldn't take a nap, I couldn't do much of anything for two and a half hours. I charged her a rush fee, and they didn't have a problem with it.
But wait! There's more! She had a friend who needed a prom alteration, too, and mentioned me. The friend called. She needed a hem. Well, ok (I was caught up with my work, so could fit her in). When she asked the cost, I told her, plus added a 50% rush charge, and a $60 hem was giving her ouchies. But she agreed, she had no choice. And she came over with a dress that had more chiffon yardage than I've ever seen on a prom dress. I was already in a bad mood because of the earlier girl's very tardy appearance, and told this girl that I had a grump going on and she'd have to listen to me vent for awhile until I got it out of my system. So I grumped, and had to deal more grumpiness because I knew what it was going to take to hem 24 yards of chiffon. But she was a good sport and by the time we were done pinning, we were both laughing. I asked her when she could stop by tomorrow (today), and she said 1 pm. Not gonna happen. What's the latest? 4pm. So I spent six flipping hours on that dress, so the $60 turned out to be not so good for me. Yet in another way it was, because while I was doing the work, I had time to think about restructuring my pricing to accommodate monster chiffon hems and late charges. So she got stung with a high price, I got stung by too low a price. As I explained to her, we both hurt a bit with this one, but we both got something out of it, too.
My grump is gone, I've got a better pricing system, and all is well. My wine is almost gone, too, but as soon as I hang up here, I'm going to fix that....
Oh wait. One more thing. Remember when I said I got quiet but not peace? Not quite true. What helped get me through 24 flippin' yards of chiffon was old Oak Ridge Boys tapes. Cranked up loud.