Weddingbee

Not a “go,” possibly, because it seems I set my heart on the one place card holder out of a million that required a re-design the month before my blessed event. Not a major revamp either, mind you, but the artist’s medium wasn’t cutting it anymore (i.e. pewter = too expensive: best make these puppies in resin from now on).

Really, I blame the slackers who failed to RSVP by the set deadline, thereby preventing me from having an accurate adorable-little-car count by which to base my order. Then I wouldn’t have passed on ordering them just the other day at one of the many, many vendors online who just last week were selling these by the hundreds but now just taunt me with their “backordered” warnings.

There was this possible alternative:

But for me, it was like settling for a less appealing younger cousin version of my darling little car. The little fellow in this one wasn’t even sporting a top hat: c’mmon!

So off I went like a mad woman trying to find some forsaken vendor online who had my babies in stock — just to find out, no one keeps these things in stock, for the most part. And how many of these online favors vendors are running things out of their living rooms, I can’t begin to say, but I spoke to one too many people on the phone who were clearly at home, dog barking in the background and all. Nothing wrong with running a home business, but I’m looking for answers here, and I’m already not feeling too confident when business calls are just answered with “hello?”.

One vendor took the order, said he had them, charged me for them — which I believe you’re not supposed to do until shipping has occured, no? — and then finally wrote back after my email harassment to say that indeed, he also did not have them (I will be sure to share the company’s name with the world if my money is not refunded pronto).

Sweet Mr. Petunia took over — for hours — when it was clear that I had lost my mind (and still have: I mean, I won’t compromise on my place card holder pewter boy not wearing a top hat? Yes, I realize I have lost it).

But the future husband believes he struck gold, bless him, and found some lone warehouse in the heart of America who does actually have my beautiful faux-automobiles, but I’ll believe it when I see it.

This is what happens when you wait until just weeks before a wedding to order something: reader beware!

(Now, someone assure me all will be okay, please?)

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