Have you ever met someone who you can tell just immediately doesn't like you? Because I have run across a few of these people during the wedding planning process, and it's always kind of a drag.
I am willing to concede that I am not the wittiest person in the entire world. I mean, I truly believe if you don't think something's funny, you shouldn't feel like you have to laugh. But, in my defense, if you're in the middle of a supposedly very serious discussion about something like, say, wedding flower colors, it's very hard not to make a few mild cracks, and I have to say it's always disheartening to have those cracks met not with a laugh or even a blank face but with a single raised eyebrow and a kindly-don't-leave-that-turd-you-just-laid-on-my-nice- clean-table brand of tolerant smile.
I got a bit of that vibe today when Eric and my parents and I were at the florist, and it sort of pissed me off. Am I not asking to have enough money spent here? Am I expected to know in advance the exact color, size, and shape of everything? Isn't that why you have all those sample books and all that expertise? My god, I am but one woman! etc. etc.
I was especially irritated with her impatience because I was very proud of myself that I had, despite my general lassitude, decided on a bouquet flower ahead of time. I think tulips are pretty and simple and would look really nice.
Unfortunately for me, I didn't know what color, what size, or whether I wanted a bunch of shit mixed in with them. And that was apparently displeasing to the florist. You don't know what you want your bouquet should look like? Haven't you been dreaming of this day since at least six months before you grasped the concept of object permanence?
Eric and I had joked about and even mock-rehearsed our request for tulips. I was supposed to say, "Well, I was thinking about tulips. How do you feel about tulips, Eric?" And that would be his cue to stand up, leer, grab his crotch, wave his free hand around in the air as though he were spinning a lasso, and say, "As long as yer talking about yer two lips on mah cock, that's A-OK with me, baby!" All weekend, that never failed to cheer me up; I made him do it again and again.
As we sat there today in the increasingly airless showroom, talking so, so seriously about flowers and greenery, I prayed and prayed for Eric to step up and lighten the mood. But apparently he was as intimidated or as bored as I was in the face of the joyless florist. He just sat there, motionless and silent, and that right there proved to me that when it comes to the wedding industry, at least, there is no god.