One of my clients is a restaurateur who owns two of the most popular restaurants in Jackson. One of them hosted a champagne brunch last summer and I was asked to attend and live-tweet all of the courses. I accepted, enthusiastically. There were 6 courses, each paired with the perfect champagne chosen by a sommelier. By the end of the fourth course, I realized I had absolutely no capacity for champagne and it all hit me at once. I got the giggles, the burps, and the spins. Uh oh.
Through some magic, all of my tweets from that day were absolutely perfect. Spelling, grammar, beautifully composed pictures, everything. I brought a notepad with me so I could write down every course in shorthand so I could tweet them correctly, and I managed to maintain professionalism. Drew picked me up afterward, I burped so loud that the windshield cracked, and I took my shoes and bra off right there in the car. That afternoon's nap was nice.
Another client is a truly brilliant chef for a local restaurant/my favorite bar. In January, he and several other local chefs were honored to host a dinner benefiting a foundation that gives scholarships to aspiring chefs around the country. They chose an amazing menu that was a spinoff of Southern comfort food. I helped plan and promote the dinner, but unfortunately had bronchitis and wasn't able to go.
Last month, that foundation invited him and the other chefs to New York City this summer to present the same menu at the foundation's restaurant. My chef decided to host a dinner last night to raise funds for all the chefs' travel expenses, serving hors d'oeuvre portions of their foundation dinner menu. He invited me but I declined because tickets were $50 a head and I'm planning a trip to Phoenix soon. He said he'd put me on the list for two tickets. I love my clients.
I wasn't there for work, I thought, so I had *cough* drinks. My chef walked up to me after my *cough*th drink, handed me his phone, and asked me to tweet all of the dishes. Double, triple uh oh. But, since live-tweeting is one of my favorite things EVER and tequila tells me I can do anything and I love my chef, I said "of course!" I wobbled to every table, took a picture, asked the chefs to slowly describe their meals to me, and sent out some tweets. I knew they weren't my best work but given that high-end chefs like to make their meals really freaking complicated with a lot of words, I only had a very small amount of wiggle room.
I fell asleep in the car on the way home. Woke up this morning, washed off last night's makeup, had a big glass of cold water, and MEGA-CRINGED when the fog lifted and I remembered last night's tweets. Wincing, I opened my chef's Twitter. PERFECTION. I used words like "oxtail mignonette" and "port reduction ganache" and "casarecce" and "spaetzle." No misspellings, good pictures, and for each chef that was on Twitter, I included their usernames for proper cross-promotion. (And yes, the food was goooooooooooooood.)
This is why I'm the master of social media, people. Even when I'm barely fit to walk, I can shoot out perfect tweets for my clients. My own Twitter? Not so much. But I shine for my clients.
That should be my company motto. "The drunker I get, the better I make you look."
1 month ago