I had a NIGHTMARE experience with a wedding planner.
NE England, big historical hall, we were the band playing after the wedding. We're setting up a huge lighting rig on top of all of the instruments in a closed room to the side of the banquet hall. Piece of cake. Plenty of time before the guests arrive, etc.
This will not do for the wedding planner. Oh no. How dare we bring a VAN to the door! How dare we have all these big... BOXES. What sort of a shit-show are we running, with all these WIRES!?
We then proceed to ask him how we're supposed to play this gig with no lights, no XLR cables, and without our transport (again, an hour before the guests arrive). He does his best Louis Spence impression and floats out of the room. I catch up with him a minute later, give him some fake apology, and ask him to confirm what time we're starting.
He freezes. He doesn't know. I tell him we have the music for the first dance, and we're starting immediately after that. Again, silence. I can't believe it - the wedding planner doesn't know when the first dance is. This poncy git doesn't know the running order of the evening.
I start laughing. This does not go well with him.
An hour later we're all set up, the van has been moved, and the bride and groom arrive! The groom is on crutches and potent painkillers. He went out for his stag night the night before the wedding, sank an absolute skinful of beer, did a pub crawl, no bother - then tripped over the frame on his front door and damaged his ankle. He asks how our day's gone so far I tell him of our many woes getting set up, and he bursts out laughing.
A couple of hours later, everybody's fed, the first dance goes ahead (surprisingly well!), and we notice the wedding planner has been suspiciously absent from the whole evening.
Turns out he left his junior in charge, then fled the scene. Outstanding work.