Wedding Drama·

THE CONTRACT GHOST

Two hopeful partners chase a dream venue as a slick coordinator delays, misemails, and odd excuses, leaving them with a hollow contract-like promise and mounting doubt.

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The "dream venue" kept dangling one thing the couple needed most: a real contract.

Months earlier, the poster and her fiancé had toured reception venues and landed on what she called the dream spot. The staff there were friendly enough to send over a blank copy of the venue's standard contract, so the couple could review it and ask questions before locking anything in.

Then came Richard.

The poster was referred to him for price negotiations, and the back-and-forth eventually produced terms they could live with: a discount, as long as the guest count stayed under 75. They accepted. On July 5, the poster sent Richard her contact information so he could draw up the contract with those details.

Then the waiting started.

By July 11, no contract had arrived. Richard said he would finish it and send it "that day."

By July 16, still nothing. This time, Richard sent an email address he had "on file," but it was wrong. He apologized and promised to resend the contract to the correct email "that day."

Still nothing.

The next day, the poster followed up again. Richard didn't respond.

On July 18, he came back with a strange implication: he had been "trying to contact me." The poster said she was anxious about not having the venue officially locked in, and Richard suggested they call. That call did not make things clearer.

During the conversation, Richard blamed connection issues and said he was juggling 100+ brides by himself. Then he veered off into a rant about covid conspiracy theories. The poster stayed silent. Richard then said he was working from home that day and assured her, "You'll have your contract sent to you today."

It still did not arrive.

So the poster and her fiancé quietly started looking at other venues, though she did not tell Richard.

Then, on July 21 at 6 p.m., an email finally landed. It was described as "contract-like." Inside was a PDF of the venue's blank contract, accompanied by the note: "we can fill in the numbers later."

The poster already had that blank contract.

What she did not have, and still had not received, despite the date, the price, the guest count, and the amenities list all being set, was the actual completed contract.