Most venue operators sign a contract template and assume it holds. One force majeure clause missing the word "pandemic" — and it didn't. Ten questions. Three minutes. You'll know exactly where you're exposed.
Answer Yes, No, or Uncertain for each clause area. Your risk score and top gaps appear instantly after the final question.
0 of 10 answered
Most venue operators don't read their own contracts until a dispute forces them to. By then, it's too late to fix the language — and too late to retain the deposit, the rebooking fee, or the full payment. The contract is the venue's last line of defense, and most contracts I review have at least three clauses that wouldn't survive a single dispute.
The case that drove this tool was straightforward: a venue's force majeure clause used the language "acts of God" without specifying pandemics, government orders, or declared health emergencies. When a state-mandated closure prevented the event, the couple's attorney argued — successfully — that a government mandate is not an act of God. The venue refunded $40,000 and had no legal recourse. Two words would have changed the outcome.
That isn't an edge case. It's a pattern I've seen repeated with different clauses: a tiered refund schedule that doesn't specify the notice requirement, a damage deposit with no dispute window, a scope creep clause that mentions overage fees but doesn't define the per-guest rate. Every ambiguous clause is a negotiation in waiting — and the venue is always negotiating from a position of weakness after the event.
The fix is not complicated. It's one afternoon with your attorney and a clear list of what your contract needs to cover. The $40K contract clause case walks through exactly how we rebuilt the contract after the fact — and what the venue now has that it didn't before.
The operators who do this work once never revisit it again. The ones who don't do it are the ones calling me after a dispute.