I can’t believe I did it, but this morning, I walked into my boss’s office and told him about my new job offer. As expected, he didn’t ask me to give two weeks’ notice. He was excited for me, wished me the best, and offered the company’s services for anything I needed outsourced. I cleaned out my desk, said good-bye to everyone, and was back home by noon.
I hope the rest of our plan goes this easily.
Since the main focus of most bridal magazines is the wedding gown, I figure that might be the best place to start. I call Katie and Lisa and ask them to join me. They’ve been advising me on what to wear since we were kids.
We meet at a bridal store, and Lisa immediately takes charge. She’s running from dress to dress, screaming, giggling, and basically making a fool out of herself over fabric and lace.
She’s oohing and aahing over dress after dress, saying, “Oh, this one. This is ah-mazing!”
Never once does she ask me what I want. Of course, she knows me. Knows I probably don’t have a clue, which is probably a good thing because, after seeing all the dresses in the magazines, how does anyone ever pick one? You could try on dresses for years.
I sit down next to Katie. “How did you decide which dress to buy?”
“I think it’s kind of like choosing your husband. You keep trying them on until one seems right.”
“We might need cocktails for that,” I joke.
Katie laughs and then whispers to me, “Lisa dreams of a huge ballgown. You know that’s what she’s gonna make you try on. I made the mistake of taking Eric’s sister shopping with me. She was mad we were getting married before her, and I think she wanted me to look bad. My suggestion is to try on a dress of each silhouette, see what looks good on your figure, and then try on those types of dresses.”
“That’s a good idea. Kind of narrow it down. How did you do it? Like, plan your wedding? I’m so overwhelmed by choices. How did you know what colors to choose? Did you have a theme?”
The wedding coordinator brings us glasses of champagne and starts asking me all sorts of questions—when my wedding will be, what my colors are, what style dress I want, do I want it casual or formal. I’m pretty sure my eyes glaze over, and I know I just got that deer-in-the-headlights look.
Katie lowers her voice and says to the coordinator, “She just got engaged. It’s her first time.”
“Yes, it is. Please be gentle with me.” I turn back to Katie. “Seriously, how did you do it?”
“Just pick some colors, find your dress, and the rest will all fall into place. I promise.”
Although I secretly hated the dresses we wore for her wedding, I’m now sorta applauding the fact that she had the courage to even choose one.
She touches my hand and says quietly, “This probably isn’t the best time to tell you, but I don’t know if Eric and I are going to make it.”
“Make it to the wedding? But I haven’t even set a date yet.”
“I mean, make it. Our marriage. I’m not … we’re not … I’m not sure. We fight a lot. I just don’t know if it’s going to last.”
“Oh, Katie!” I hug her. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, this stays between us, but Neil and I have gotten close again. He’s really been helping me.”
“Neil’s been helping you? Katie, he’s had a crush on you since the eighth grade. He’s not the person you should be getting marital advice from.”
“I’m not. We’re just friends. I mean, there’re sparks, but we just go to lunch. Talk. He listens to me.”
“They always listen when they want in your pants.’ And that’s a direct quote from you! Do you remember telling me that when I was telling you that Jake wasn’t really a jerk because he listened to me?”
She giggles. “I do remember that! God, he was a jerk.”
Lisa skips back to where we’re sitting and pulls me off the couch. She says in a perky voice, “Okay, we’re ready for you to start trying on! I’m so excited you asked us to help you pick out your dress!”
Katie rolls her eyes at me from behind Lisa.
“I’m not sure I’ll find a dress today, but everyone tells me I need to start planning.”
“Have you set a date?” Katie asks.
“Not yet,” I sorta lie. Not really though since we haven’t picked an exact date.
Katie was right. The first dress Lisa has me try on is a huge, poofy hoop-skirted ballgown. This dress looks like something designed by Cinderella, Barbie, and Lady Gaga while they were sitting around, getting high on mushrooms or crack or whatever drug makes you hallucinate. Not that those people would partake in those activities, but if they did, I’m thinking this is the dress that would be born from it. I have never seen so much satin, tulle, lace, glitter, sequins, and fabric roses all in one place.
I look ridiculous.
You know those bobblehead dolls with the big heads and the little bodies? I look like a bobblehead in reverse. A teeny head on top of a big, huge body. I walk out to the middle of the store to give the girls a good laugh.
Katie smiles as Lisa screeches, “OH MY GOD! That’s THE most GORGEOUS dress I have EVER seen! Don’t you just love it?”
Could she possibly be serious? It looks like a Bedazzler threw up on me.
“Uh, it’s quite gorgeous, but I’m not sure this dress is, like, the one,” I say.
She disagrees. “I know it’s the first one you’ve tried on, but, oh, JJ, that’s got to be your dress. It looks amazing on you. Turn around. I’m dying to see the back of it better.”
As I’m trying to turn myself around in this dress, which I’m pretty sure is like trying to maneuver a Hummer into a Mini Cooper–sized parallel parking space, the skirt hits a decorative column with a vase sitting on top of it. The whole thing topples over. If it wasn’t for Katie’s quick reflexes, the vase would’ve hit Lisa in the head and probably killed her.
That probably would have put a damper on the occasion.
Needless to say, three hours and God knows how many Cinderella gowns later, I’m a bridal dress failure.
As in I have no direction, no idea what I want, and no idea when I’m going to figure it out.
I call Phillip and tell him that it’s imperative that he meet me at Hooters. I need some hot wings, beer, and Monday Night Football to erase the trauma of this afternoon.
Danny texts me.
Danny: Heard you went dress shopping. How’d that go?
Me: Not so well. But it was my first time. First times always suck, don’t they?
Danny: Not what I heard.
Me: Yes, I lost my virginity. Again.
Danny: That’s pretty funny. You need to get Lori to do a Naughty Dream Week for me.
Me: She’s planning a babymoon. Close enough?
Danny: Doubtful. I do have another idea for your wedding though.
Me: Do tell.
Danny: Install multiple stripper poles at the reception to encourage (in)appropriate dancing.
Me: You do know your wife bought our sorority a stripper’s aerobic workout DVD and was voted to have the best stripper moves?
Danny: I did NOT know that. WHY did I not know that?
Me: She can show us all her moves at my wedding. On the poles.
Danny: I think I’d rather see those moves in private. On my pole. Gotta go.
