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The Wedding of Indecision


So we finally got confirmation on the menu for The Irrational Bride's Wedding and on Wednesday we had a final count. What I wanted to tell The Irrational Bride was that all she was getting was cheese and crackers because having to place a somewhat late order with The Food Distributor Guy makes for a crabby Food Distributor Guy and when Food Distributor Guy gets crabby with The Food Whore - The Food Whore gets crabby.

And I think we all know The Food Whore is not always so pleasant even on a good day.

And as of Thursday, one of the groomsmen still had not even been measured for his tuxedo. I know this because The Flower Shop Friend also rents tuxedos and she called The Irrational Bride no less than 5 times and got no response. I also happen to know that The Irrational Bride had picked out all of her flowers with The Flower Shop friend but changed her mind and went with another florist.

(Aforementioned groomsmen didn't get a tuxedo.)

Apparently the wedding was nearly called off on Monday night because The Irrational Bride had left so damn many things undecided that things weren't done and figured it would be best to call the entire thing off.

But then she couldn't decide.

I know this because The Super Organized Acquaintance is friends with The Mother of the Irrational bride and had offered early on to host the reception in her garden.

The Super Organized Acquaintance sat down with The Irrational Bride months ago and asked what she wanted her reception to look like, and because The Irrational Bride could not make a decision (see the pattern here), The Super Organized Acquaintance took charge and did the entire reception herself. She picked the flowers, the linens, the table service, the music, the program - everything.

I should interject this little tidbit of info: The Irrational Bride is 32 years old and she is a school teacher. I am frightened beyond measure to think that this woman is teaching our youth. Teaching them what? I am sure she hasn't decided. My guess is she bursts into tears when little Johnny raises his hand to ask a question. And then can't decide if she wants to call on little Johnny, which causes her angst, which makes her cry some more.

I would bet my life savings that she keeps a supply of paper bags in her top teacher drawer in case of emergencies like hyperventillation.

Anyway.

So we are setting out our linens on Saturday afternoon when the newly-chosen florist arrives and when she comes around the arbor with her hands full of white roses she asked, "Is this the reception for The Wedding of Indecision?"

So it wasn't just us.

The Irrational Bride had managed to piss off the florist (both of them), the caterers, the photographers, The Super Organized Acquaintance, the bridal shop, the rental company, her parents, the stationary store, and a myriad of other people both directly and indirectly involved with this wedding in some form.

In fact, because she couldn't make a decision, there was no formal announcement of a reception written on the wedding announcement. The Minister had to inform the guests at the end of the ceremony that they would, in fact, be getting a meal. And then he had to give verbal directions on how to get from the church to The Super Organized Acquaintance's garden - which was a 12 mile drive.

So our food is set in place, The Super Organized Acquaintance called ahead to announce they were leaving the church and that the guests would be eating upon arrival of The Irrational Bride and Her Must Be Medicated Or Is Totally Insane Groom.

Perfect.

We were ready.

Give us the nod and we will remove the lids from the chafing dishes and toss the salad.

But then something crazy happened.

The Irrational Bride and Her Must Be Medicated or Is Totally Insane Groom arrived...and...The Irrational Bride Made a decision.

She decided that she was hungry and wanted a half hour so she and her Must To Be Medicated or Is Totally Insane Groom could eat and have private time.

This - THIS is what she decides?????

As much as I wanted to shout, "Are you fucking kidding me?" I didn't. I smiled at The Super Organized Acquaintance, made up two plates of food and looked for a concrete wall to beat my head against.

The Partner and The Staff looked for liquor.

So as 200 guests were sitting at their tables - some not so lucky to be in the shade (Yeah, it was another hot one) - they had to wait while The Irrational Bride and Her Must Be Medicated or Is Totally Insane Groom ate and had quiet time.

Now, just so you understand, this is a major no-no. The wedding is all about the bride and groom. But the reception is to be all about the guests. These people got dressed up, bought and expensive gift and gave up a beautiful Saturday evening to sit in a hot church and watch you say your vows and act like princess for a day. So when the time comes - you feed them. And you feed them well. And you feed them in a timely fashion. You don't hole up in the air-conditioned house while Great Aunt Ethel has to apply another layer of pancake foundation because the profuse sweating is making her look like a drunk circus clown. Get your ass outside, greet everyone and FEED THEM.

So finally they are done eating and then The Irrational Bride couldn't decide how she wanted to be announced as she entered the garden. Every single person in that kitchen - caterers, parents, The Super Organized Acquaintance and bridesmaids - made raised eyebrow eye contact and a a silent pact that if that girl did not get her sorry ass out to that garden, we would physically pick her up and toss her into the petunias.

Finally she went.

And finally the guest got to eat - gorge, was more like it. Those poor people were starving.

I am very happy to say that beyond all the indecision, the food was fabulous and despite the Great Gnat Invasion of 2004 (another blog), things were wonderful.

But I would bet money that at this very moment The Irrational Bride and Her Must Be Medicated or Is Totally Insane Groom are still driving around the airport parking garage because The Irrational Bride couldn't decide.

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Posted by Foodwhore at August 1, 2004 11:41 PM