19 September 2018
Story #928
R. Linda:
I may have sounded cryptic and mysterious in my email to you yesterday when I said, "I went to the mountains to a wedding of a close personal friend and got back Sunday evening. So, I have had no phone reception. I saw London, I saw France, and unfortunately, I saw the bride's underpants!" That was purely unintentional (the mysteriousness). Still, as you felt the need I should explain meself, since an "email, a poem AND a mystery . . . of the underpants variety," was set in motion, I will tend to that right away.
As I mentioned, I left last Friday for a wedding in the mountains of New Hampshire. One of my closest friends was tying the knot and invited me entire family to the wedding. He is very fond of me Mam, and since he lost his many years ago, he considers her a second mom. This delights her because she loves the lad, and I have often felt that, due to our easy friendship, we are akin to brothers. The only one not invited was Sean, who was to take care of the zoo while we were away. And who was going to take care of Sean? Ben was asked by Mam to keep an eye on the miscreant, and so he did.
We took two motors because there were many of us and a lot of baggage. Mam offered to drive one with the two youngest kiddos, and Tonya and I the other, with the eldest kiddo on board. As is always the case with kiddos, we had to stop for a restroom and food replenishment. We did this at one of the state comfort stations, and what a crowded place that was. Keeping the chicks in sight was a task, but we managed. Everyone was fit for the road and supplied with sannies and drinks, ready to resume the three-hour drive.
We were invited at 4 p.m. for the rehearsal, as Mam was the honorary Mother of the Groom. Afterwards, there was a cocktail party followed by dinner. Ahead of this, Mam had asked the bride-to-be what the dress code for the rehearsal dinner was, and she said, "Whatever you are comfortable in. The men will be wearing jeans and button-down shirts." This explanation put Mam into a quandary because it told her nothing about what the women would wear. Finally, she found out from someone that the ladies were wearing dresses. So, in fact, she went out and bought herself a lovely Ralph Lauren number, black and white. When I saw it, I took a pause. It was a very flattering dress on her, but it was black mostly, and the bride made her own mother take back the black number she had bought for her daughter's wedding because she told her mum, "It's not a funeral."
"Well, we jus' won't tell it to her," Mam said to me when I pointed out the colour problem.
Add to this, for months, Mam had been hunting for a gown for the wedding and was very unhappy that she could find nothing she liked. She did go to a bridal store where a saleslady talked her into a plum pants outfit. Mam, I'm not one for pants outfits for weddings, especially if you're being walked down the aisle in front of a lot of people you don't know. It made her short self look all of 5 feet 0 inches, and she was not thrilled, but bought it under pressure.
However, that wasn't the only outfit the saleslady was eager to sell. No, indeed, she wanted to dress my wife up like Jessica Rabbit. She told Tonya, "1. You need to feel comfortable in your dress 2. It doesn't matter what the bride wants if you are not in the wedding party, you can wear any colour you want and 3. So what, you show up the bride or anyone else for that matter." Now Tonya be no fool and knowing that what the bride thought DID matter, and the colour mattered, she had the sense to say, "No thank you. I'll pass on THIS dress." And here's the number the saleslady thought she looked "hot" in, and she did, but not for a wedding.
Meanwhile, Mam was not comfortable with what she had found at Macy's, which has a large selection of dresses. Someone told her to go to Macy's online, and she saw a medium blue dress she liked. It was expedited to her, only to find it way too big. If she wore it, she'd be standing for all the world with the beaded top fallen down and her in her dark blue bra. She sent it back for a smaller size, but the same issue occurred: the top did not look like it did on the model. Mam, being a busty sort, would think the top would not fall down, but the second one did as well. Now she was nearly frustrated, so she took both dresses to Macy's to return. As she stood in line, waiting and waiting (a woman had decided to open a Macy's charge in front of her), a rack of gowns came out, and one fell at her feet. She picked it up to put it back, but when she did, she thought the gown held promise. The only thing she did not like was the royal purple, it was. It seems the woman can't get away from shades of purple! Well, she tried it on, and it fit beautifully; she bought it. I'd like to say that was the last word on the purple dress, but alas, not to be so!
The place where the wedding was held didn't have enough rooms for my immediate family, so instead, we were two minutes down the road from the venue. The place we stayed had a three-bedroom suite, complete with two bathrooms (an essential with kiddos), and a lounge. The only problem was that there were magnificent views of the mountains all around us, but our room was located on the basement level, one window high on the side of one of the enclosed bedrooms, and that faced the parking lot. It was damp, and by the time we left, I had killed three ticks and left two small beetle-like creatures dying on one of the bathroom floors. Yup, grossed everyone out. There was an indoor water park, and as guests, we were charged $25 per person if we chose to use it. Can you imagine? If you weren't a guest, the cost was $40 per person. Is it just me, but I think that, given the astronomical sum I was charged for the suite, they should have thrown in free passes to the water park! If you chose not to watch and swim at the water park, you were charged $10. What is up with that?
And you know, as I do, that the kiddos begged for the water park the entire time of our stay. I caved and shelled out $100 for the three kiddos and Tonya to go. Mam and I ordered pizza from room service and enjoyed the peace and quiet for a few hours in our damp, dark suite.
Rehearsal time came, and we got all spiffy and polished. When we arrived, all the ladies were wearing very nice floral dresses, and the setting looked like a garden. The men, on the other hand, were dressed in jeans and button-down shirts. The only one who was dressed out of character at the gathering was the bride's own mother. The poor dear was in palazzo pants and a sailor-like striped top. She came over to Mam and was upset that her daughter had told her "comfortable" clothing, and here everyone was wearing dresses. Well, Mam, being Mam, told her she looked wonderful, not to worry; the palazzo slacks looked like a skirt, and no worries. But somehow I think the mum was not pleased to be the only one not in a dress. And it was bad enough that the step-mum was in a dress as well. Can you feel the tension?
The tension built because the step-mum noticed that my Mam and the bride's real Mam were escorted down the aisle. She wanted to know why she wasn't included in the wedding party. Oh, my goodness me! This sparked a whispered round of angry words between the bride and her mother about the nerve of the stepmother, as neither likes her. Really, it was the bride's day, not the stepmother's. The bride should have who she wanted walking down the aisle. There was an air of discomfort during the cocktail party, and I would say most everyone had too much to drink. Even Mam. She asked for a Jameson on the rocks, and the bartender poured half the bottle into her glass. She was taken aback but sipped it throughout the party, getting a wee bit tipsy. By the end of the cocktail party, there were more than a few of us holding up the low ceiling, trying not to fall down. The bartender, I found out the next day, was notorious for strong drinks.
We finally (before we were all flat out), were off to the dinner, which was being held at (of all places) a barbecue joint down the road, which meant all of us DUI candidates were behind the wheel of a vehicle ripe to be pulled over. Somehow, we made it, even if a few of us missed the parking lot and had to turn around. We lurched into the place, and more drinks were ordered, this time the watered-down variety. Soon after, huge platters of barbecue were placed on the tables, featuring brisket, ribs, and chicken — all smothered in sauce, accompanied by black beans, coleslaw, and mashed potatoes. None of it looked good after a stomach full of Cape Cods, let me tell you. And I had ordered another when I arrived. Thank God it was mostly cranberry juice and light on the vodka.
And the step-mum drama continued. She's a vegan! We were all supposed to get menus, but instead, we got platters of food. The woman was not happy. She complained loudly and long about the food and was rewarded with a large plate of slaw. Yup, and she walked out. She spent the next few hours probably smoking a cigarette out in the parking lot for all I knew.
Me tablemate, another Irish fellow, informed the waitress before he left that it was the worst, most tasteless BBQ he'd ever eaten. Me only thought was his taste buds had been dead since we left the mountainside hotel cocktail party, but ok. The waitress shrugged, said nothing, and left us.
Somehow, we found our way back to the hotel and retired to our damp beds for a night of restless sleep.
The next day, the drama of the step-mum was on everyone's minds. Would she be walked down the aisle or would she not? That was the question. She arrived in a mid-calf-length sapphire gown with huge beads at the neck and sunglasses. Something we should all have been wearing to hide the alcohol bags under our eyes, not to mention the sun blinking off the bling around her neck!
Mam had gone with Tonya early to get their hair done, and the only thing that bothered Mam to a great extent was that she couldn't find her earrings. She gave up looking because her hair was getting lanky, the poor dear. By the time we got to the venue, she was composed, if not annoyed with herself for misplacing the earrings. I thought she and Tonya looked wonderful, but all that led to a migraine headache for Mam just minutes before she was to walk down the aisle. She managed a migraine tablet without water and was almost back to form by the time she was to walk with me (Best Man) down the aisle. I noticed the step-mum was seated next to the real mum, but she had been sitting before the walk-downs, so there was no walk down the aisle. But she was dressed in the same exact colour as the real mum's dress. On purpose?
It all went off without a hitch. We were all in our places when the bride started her entrance down the bridal path with her two dads. Yes, the stepdad raised her, so she wanted him to walk her down. However, because her biological father was present, she didn't want to slight him, which is why the two fathers were involved. That's why the stepmom felt she should have been included. Uh-huh.
The walk for these three was long when it should have been short. The brick walkway would accommodate two people, but because the bride's dress flared out, it was like four people trying to walk (which was pushing it) all in the same space. Flower gardens bordered each side of the path, making it harder to be mushed together to traverse it. It looked like the bride had lost the use of her legs and was determined to "walk" down the aisle to her mate no matter what, with the two men holding her up. Not one of them was smiling, and that was because the two fathers were trying not to step on the voluminous skirt, and the bride was trying her best to take mincing steps to get to the arbour.
That skirt was going to come into play in a big way, and I don't know if the bride knew about it or was told about it later. As she got to the arbour, fathers receded to their chairs, and the seamstress jumped out of her chair and went up behind the bride, picking up the skirt so high we could see the bride's lace-up stockings and undies as she flapped the skirt out like she was shaking out a sheet. I wondered if the bride felt the breeze because from where I was standing, I did! She didn't react, which makes me think she was too far in the moment to realise what was going on behind her. The skirt was smoothed into picturesque folds, and the woman didn't realise what a view she had given the people seated in the chairs behind her.
I can still see the lace-up stockings and can't seem to kill that image from me mind! Mam saw the same, but Tonya, who was seated next to her, didn't. Not everyone was treated with the same intimate view they shouldn't have been.
Lastly, Mam and her dress, or more like her undies. In her own words, she told her girlfriend this, not realising I was in the next room and heard it all:
"Problem I wuz hafen' wit me gown wuz me bra. I had not realised I had packed da wrong one! I haf two purple ones I bought an' da one I taught I packed wuz da wrong one! I packed dis padded affair da saleswoman at da bridal shop had talked me inta. I dun't need padding an' dint realise wot I had dun. When I saw da mistake earlier I poot it on an' lucked inta da mirror an' it lucked ok. But as da day wore on and, da heat took over the damn ting seemed like it wuz growing. I noticed I hadda lot more bounce suddenly, so I stayed seated as long as I could. When Tonya wanted pictures an' I started walking outside, it was like va va va voom! When Tonya took dose pictures, not only had me hair drooped, but me makeup was melted, an' me bust line had grown! It made me luck like I had gained weight jus sittin' in da chair durin' da reception, it did."
There you have it all revealed.
Gabe
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
Story #928
R. Linda:
I may have sounded cryptic and mysterious in my email to you yesterday when I said, "I went to the mountains to a wedding of a close personal friend and got back Sunday evening. So, I have had no phone reception. I saw London, I saw France, and unfortunately, I saw the bride's underpants!" That was purely unintentional (the mysteriousness). Still, as you felt the need I should explain meself, since an "email, a poem AND a mystery . . . of the underpants variety," was set in motion, I will tend to that right away.
As I mentioned, I left last Friday for a wedding in the mountains of New Hampshire. One of my closest friends was tying the knot and invited me entire family to the wedding. He is very fond of me Mam, and since he lost his many years ago, he considers her a second mom. This delights her because she loves the lad, and I have often felt that, due to our easy friendship, we are akin to brothers. The only one not invited was Sean, who was to take care of the zoo while we were away. And who was going to take care of Sean? Ben was asked by Mam to keep an eye on the miscreant, and so he did.
We took two motors because there were many of us and a lot of baggage. Mam offered to drive one with the two youngest kiddos, and Tonya and I the other, with the eldest kiddo on board. As is always the case with kiddos, we had to stop for a restroom and food replenishment. We did this at one of the state comfort stations, and what a crowded place that was. Keeping the chicks in sight was a task, but we managed. Everyone was fit for the road and supplied with sannies and drinks, ready to resume the three-hour drive.
We were invited at 4 p.m. for the rehearsal, as Mam was the honorary Mother of the Groom. Afterwards, there was a cocktail party followed by dinner. Ahead of this, Mam had asked the bride-to-be what the dress code for the rehearsal dinner was, and she said, "Whatever you are comfortable in. The men will be wearing jeans and button-down shirts." This explanation put Mam into a quandary because it told her nothing about what the women would wear. Finally, she found out from someone that the ladies were wearing dresses. So, in fact, she went out and bought herself a lovely Ralph Lauren number, black and white. When I saw it, I took a pause. It was a very flattering dress on her, but it was black mostly, and the bride made her own mother take back the black number she had bought for her daughter's wedding because she told her mum, "It's not a funeral."
"Well, we jus' won't tell it to her," Mam said to me when I pointed out the colour problem.
Add to this, for months, Mam had been hunting for a gown for the wedding and was very unhappy that she could find nothing she liked. She did go to a bridal store where a saleslady talked her into a plum pants outfit. Mam, I'm not one for pants outfits for weddings, especially if you're being walked down the aisle in front of a lot of people you don't know. It made her short self look all of 5 feet 0 inches, and she was not thrilled, but bought it under pressure.
 |
| To be honest (and I didn't tell her this), not only did she look like a grape in it, it made her look fat, and she's not. |
 |
| This is the one Tonya wore |
 |
| Would you wear this dress? |
Meanwhile, Mam was not comfortable with what she had found at Macy's, which has a large selection of dresses. Someone told her to go to Macy's online, and she saw a medium blue dress she liked. It was expedited to her, only to find it way too big. If she wore it, she'd be standing for all the world with the beaded top fallen down and her in her dark blue bra. She sent it back for a smaller size, but the same issue occurred: the top did not look like it did on the model. Mam, being a busty sort, would think the top would not fall down, but the second one did as well. Now she was nearly frustrated, so she took both dresses to Macy's to return. As she stood in line, waiting and waiting (a woman had decided to open a Macy's charge in front of her), a rack of gowns came out, and one fell at her feet. She picked it up to put it back, but when she did, she thought the gown held promise. The only thing she did not like was the royal purple, it was. It seems the woman can't get away from shades of purple! Well, she tried it on, and it fit beautifully; she bought it. I'd like to say that was the last word on the purple dress, but alas, not to be so!
 |
| Mam's final choice |
The place where the wedding was held didn't have enough rooms for my immediate family, so instead, we were two minutes down the road from the venue. The place we stayed had a three-bedroom suite, complete with two bathrooms (an essential with kiddos), and a lounge. The only problem was that there were magnificent views of the mountains all around us, but our room was located on the basement level, one window high on the side of one of the enclosed bedrooms, and that faced the parking lot. It was damp, and by the time we left, I had killed three ticks and left two small beetle-like creatures dying on one of the bathroom floors. Yup, grossed everyone out. There was an indoor water park, and as guests, we were charged $25 per person if we chose to use it. Can you imagine? If you weren't a guest, the cost was $40 per person. Is it just me, but I think that, given the astronomical sum I was charged for the suite, they should have thrown in free passes to the water park! If you chose not to watch and swim at the water park, you were charged $10. What is up with that?
And you know, as I do, that the kiddos begged for the water park the entire time of our stay. I caved and shelled out $100 for the three kiddos and Tonya to go. Mam and I ordered pizza from room service and enjoyed the peace and quiet for a few hours in our damp, dark suite.
 |
| Nice place, but not worth it |
The tension built because the step-mum noticed that my Mam and the bride's real Mam were escorted down the aisle. She wanted to know why she wasn't included in the wedding party. Oh, my goodness me! This sparked a whispered round of angry words between the bride and her mother about the nerve of the stepmother, as neither likes her. Really, it was the bride's day, not the stepmother's. The bride should have who she wanted walking down the aisle. There was an air of discomfort during the cocktail party, and I would say most everyone had too much to drink. Even Mam. She asked for a Jameson on the rocks, and the bartender poured half the bottle into her glass. She was taken aback but sipped it throughout the party, getting a wee bit tipsy. By the end of the cocktail party, there were more than a few of us holding up the low ceiling, trying not to fall down. The bartender, I found out the next day, was notorious for strong drinks.
We finally (before we were all flat out), were off to the dinner, which was being held at (of all places) a barbecue joint down the road, which meant all of us DUI candidates were behind the wheel of a vehicle ripe to be pulled over. Somehow, we made it, even if a few of us missed the parking lot and had to turn around. We lurched into the place, and more drinks were ordered, this time the watered-down variety. Soon after, huge platters of barbecue were placed on the tables, featuring brisket, ribs, and chicken — all smothered in sauce, accompanied by black beans, coleslaw, and mashed potatoes. None of it looked good after a stomach full of Cape Cods, let me tell you. And I had ordered another when I arrived. Thank God it was mostly cranberry juice and light on the vodka.
And the step-mum drama continued. She's a vegan! We were all supposed to get menus, but instead, we got platters of food. The woman was not happy. She complained loudly and long about the food and was rewarded with a large plate of slaw. Yup, and she walked out. She spent the next few hours probably smoking a cigarette out in the parking lot for all I knew.
Me tablemate, another Irish fellow, informed the waitress before he left that it was the worst, most tasteless BBQ he'd ever eaten. Me only thought was his taste buds had been dead since we left the mountainside hotel cocktail party, but ok. The waitress shrugged, said nothing, and left us.
Somehow, we found our way back to the hotel and retired to our damp beds for a night of restless sleep.
The next day, the drama of the step-mum was on everyone's minds. Would she be walked down the aisle or would she not? That was the question. She arrived in a mid-calf-length sapphire gown with huge beads at the neck and sunglasses. Something we should all have been wearing to hide the alcohol bags under our eyes, not to mention the sun blinking off the bling around her neck!
Mam had gone with Tonya early to get their hair done, and the only thing that bothered Mam to a great extent was that she couldn't find her earrings. She gave up looking because her hair was getting lanky, the poor dear. By the time we got to the venue, she was composed, if not annoyed with herself for misplacing the earrings. I thought she and Tonya looked wonderful, but all that led to a migraine headache for Mam just minutes before she was to walk down the aisle. She managed a migraine tablet without water and was almost back to form by the time she was to walk with me (Best Man) down the aisle. I noticed the step-mum was seated next to the real mum, but she had been sitting before the walk-downs, so there was no walk down the aisle. But she was dressed in the same exact colour as the real mum's dress. On purpose?
It all went off without a hitch. We were all in our places when the bride started her entrance down the bridal path with her two dads. Yes, the stepdad raised her, so she wanted him to walk her down. However, because her biological father was present, she didn't want to slight him, which is why the two fathers were involved. That's why the stepmom felt she should have been included. Uh-huh.
The walk for these three was long when it should have been short. The brick walkway would accommodate two people, but because the bride's dress flared out, it was like four people trying to walk (which was pushing it) all in the same space. Flower gardens bordered each side of the path, making it harder to be mushed together to traverse it. It looked like the bride had lost the use of her legs and was determined to "walk" down the aisle to her mate no matter what, with the two men holding her up. Not one of them was smiling, and that was because the two fathers were trying not to step on the voluminous skirt, and the bride was trying her best to take mincing steps to get to the arbour.
That skirt was going to come into play in a big way, and I don't know if the bride knew about it or was told about it later. As she got to the arbour, fathers receded to their chairs, and the seamstress jumped out of her chair and went up behind the bride, picking up the skirt so high we could see the bride's lace-up stockings and undies as she flapped the skirt out like she was shaking out a sheet. I wondered if the bride felt the breeze because from where I was standing, I did! She didn't react, which makes me think she was too far in the moment to realise what was going on behind her. The skirt was smoothed into picturesque folds, and the woman didn't realise what a view she had given the people seated in the chairs behind her.
I can still see the lace-up stockings and can't seem to kill that image from me mind! Mam saw the same, but Tonya, who was seated next to her, didn't. Not everyone was treated with the same intimate view they shouldn't have been.
 |
| So the train was lifted more than waist level, shaken out for the world to view and then laid out nicely for the photographer who was in front of the bride the whole time |
"Problem I wuz hafen' wit me gown wuz me bra. I had not realised I had packed da wrong one! I haf two purple ones I bought an' da one I taught I packed wuz da wrong one! I packed dis padded affair da saleswoman at da bridal shop had talked me inta. I dun't need padding an' dint realise wot I had dun. When I saw da mistake earlier I poot it on an' lucked inta da mirror an' it lucked ok. But as da day wore on and, da heat took over the damn ting seemed like it wuz growing. I noticed I hadda lot more bounce suddenly, so I stayed seated as long as I could. When Tonya wanted pictures an' I started walking outside, it was like va va va voom! When Tonya took dose pictures, not only had me hair drooped, but me makeup was melted, an' me bust line had grown! It made me luck like I had gained weight jus sittin' in da chair durin' da reception, it did."
 |
| I thought she looked great, but she felt too much of Diana Dors going on. To you Americans, Diana Dors would be the equivalent of Jayne Mansfield in the UK. |
Gabe
Copyright © 2018 All rights reserved
I love the dresses! I think your mam's gown is perfect even if the bodice grew, LOL. Tonya looks well put together as well and I love her dress too! Good choices. The bride looks lovely on her big day, did she feel the "breeze"?
ReplyDeleteMy third try on giving a comment on this particular story. OK your mam doesn't look fat in any of those pictures though the gown does her justice and the pants not so much. I rather found the Jessica Rabbit number well, my taste. But I get it, it was a wedding and that wouldn't do.
ReplyDelete