flying through clouds of uncertainty on wings of existential dread
I was reminded of this story the other night — a while back, I was a bridesmaid in my friend L’s wedding, and I have this tendency when my friends or relatives are getting married to be INSANELY OVERPROTECTIVE. It’s just that it’s their special day, and I don’t expect it to ever be repeated, and if anyone fucks it up I will murder them, possibly with my teeth. No biggie, right?
It came up at my brother’s wedding, when his groomswoman was almost late to the ceremony because she was busy getting her hair braided, and I was a half inch from stabbing her with my bouquet. Also, a certain aunt of mine was an enormous bitch the entire weekend, and she has no idea how close I came to strangling her with her stupid fairy necklace tiara (Renaissance wedding).
And then there was L’s wedding. So we’re in the hotel room helping each other get ready. The bride has been doing other people’s hair because she’s amazing at it and because she’s a ridiculously generous lady, and the maid of honour is doing her makeup. I’m crouched over a nightstand trying to sculpt last minute cake toppers out of unfortunately hard and crumbly marzipan, because I will move mountains of stupid candy dough to keep the bride from being disappointed. (I should also mention that the bride’s sister was offering to paint my toenails. We had a good group, is what I’m saying.)
The bride’s mother, who’s already had her hair done by the bride, is wandering around the already crowded room wittering on and on about whether she likes the hairdo or if it should be something different – meaning L should drop everything and redo her mother’s hair, because OF COURSE that’s who everyone came to see. I’m cursing a blue streak, so she figures that’s a great time to keep asking me questions about what I’m doing and who I am and why the sky is blue.
It is at that point that I found myself saying, “The next person to talk to me gets punched in the throat.”
A hush falls over the crowd. Into the silence, I, realizing I said that out loud, say, “Probably not L’s mother.”
That was a lie. Definitely only L’s mother.
And, okay, don’t ever say or do that, but it totally worked! She went away, and the peasants rejoiced! And then L got married looking AMAZING and it was glorious. So I’m not saying you should threaten members of the wedding party, even when they suck — I’m just saying that I will happily do it for you.
Wasn’t that a nice story?