My girlfriend Allison is great. She is awesome, brilliant, pretty and I love her very very much. That’s why I agreed to go to this bridal show with her.
Allison is marrying Jon in June, and I’m going to be one of her bridesmaids. I am so excited! But I express my excitment by talking about dresses with Mama Hoffmann and playing sim wedding. (Note: if anyone from Maxis is reading this, a Sims 2 wedding expansion would be awesome. I promise I’ll buy a copy.) Allison, whose wedding fever is exponentially bigger than mine, manages to express it differently. She maintains a mental database of florists, printers, and bridal party dancing teachers.
A bridal show is terrifying. It’s kind of like an evil street bazaar where vendors try to convince you that without a chocolate fountain, your love is doomed. Points, of course, to the caterers who actually brought a chocolate fountain and a pile of pretzels and strawberries to dip in it. I didn’t have a target, did I say target? I meant BRIDE sticker, so I was able to cut though a few speeches with the witty and brilliant line “Uh, I’m not getting married.” This is an ancient spell that makes vendors drop you, almost as fast as if you’ve just said “Actually, I have communicable leprosy”.
Allison does not feel this way. We share a penchant for Greek art and Apples to Apples, and we fantasize together about being Hogwarts professors, but on the great wedding divide, we’re on different sides. Allison’s done the expo thing before, voluntarily. She actually cares about the invitation style. There are bridal calendars that tell you when to book what, just in case you needed another set of input on your wedding plans. I think with the opinions of the bride, her mom, her sisters, most of her female relations, her soon-to-be mother-in-law, her girlfriends all being considered, I’d tell the wedding lanbook to go jump in a lake. But then again, when the time comes for me to wed, expect a phone call along the lines of “I got a pretty ring! Want to come over next Saturday?”
So there I was, with my hands full of pamphlets on hiring harpists, with a woman chasing me down to tell me that my husband was going to leave me if we didn’t go to the Carribean on our honeymoon, when I saw Becky. You know Becky? Marcus’ girlfriend. A smart classics girl, who happens to also be blonde and gorgeous. Why do these things happen to me?
If you’d told me that highlight of my day would be trading departmental gossip with Becky, I’d have laughed. But I don’t think she was expecting to get along with her beloved’s ex-girlfriend, either. Maybe we’ll get Marcus and Stick in on a classics dork night.
There is a Fiance Day Care. A room full of boys watching football. It’s not that I’m even that keen on football, but I have to stop and think about how much easier it would be to be a man.
I am not against marriage. I want to get married, not next year or the year after, but it’s something I’d like to do. Perhaps at that mythical point when I grow? (Everyone says that’s going to happen) I’m just anti-wedding. I’m not really into matching favors to the table linens, or choosing entrees that look expensive but aren’t. Honestly, it’s one Saturday out of your whole life, will you care what kind of centerpieces I have? Didn’t think so.
I can’t believe this is how people spend their Saturdays. Luckily, I made it back to Griffon in time to make a character for D&D.
