Spare change

Part of my duties at work include facilitating workshops. I love this part of my job, well, actually love and hate this part of my job--I get myself anxious as all get out leading up to the workshop and I usually freak out about all of the details, the agenda, and being absolutely perfect. Usually.

There's one workshop in particular that I absolutely love to faciliate, but dread the lead up to it. The thing about this workshop is that it is very meticulous and methodical. This is of course something I love and appreciate, but when you are learning the material and delivering the content, it can be a painstaking preparation process. There are a lot of details and in my desire to have everything be just so, it causes me much stress to prepare.

I've gotten a little better about it as I've delivered it several times, but my understanding of what's needed in preparation came at the hands of a very important lesson.

Note to self: A strip club and its single dollar bills are not soon parted on Sunday evenings.

The workshop includes a business simulation in which actual money is involved. And as I was preparing for my first facilitation (thankfully with one of my most favorite and most sarcastic friends), I was responsible for the simulation materials--including getting the money. Only, I forgot about getting the money for our Monday presentation and realized it at 7:00 PM on Sunday night. Panic.

Problem solving skills kicked in. First, I called the local grocery store to see if they had cash on hand that I could collect. I believe them when they said they didn't have change all in singles for my $400, but a little bit of me wondered just what they thought when a young woman calls them with an urgent tone (sheer panic) in her voice saying that she needed to get a hold of $400 in ones by 8:00 AM the next morning.

With Plan A shot, I moved onto Plan B: calling local casinos. Turns out the casinos don't want to give up their ones (at least not 400 of them) on a Sunday night, because then they'll be out of them to start their business week on Monday morning.

Crud. It was time to call in the big guns. I resorted to my most desperate option: I called a strip club. Oh, yes I did, the most flashy one in down town, the Deja Vu. And when I did this, my first thought was, "Oh, this is going to make a great blog post!" And I actually gave a hint that this post was forthcoming well over a year ago, I just didn't tell you that you'd have to wait this long for it. And that first thought was followed very closely by my second thought, "Am I breaking any rules or agreements with work by calling the Vu and trying to exchange $400 with them." Turns out singles are precious to strip clubs on Sunday nights as well.

I'm delivering the workshop on Tuesday and on the top of tomorrow's "to do list" at work you'll see this item: GO TO THE BANK BEFORE IT CLOSES!!! And, Internets, just in case you were wondering, yes, it is underlined and in bold with superfluous exclamation points to emphasize the very important point. I will NOT be having deja-vu with the Deja Vu this time.