The morning of the big day didn’t feel special at all. My brother didn’t go to school, so he slept in, my dad left for work as always (he worked half a day), and my mom and sister spent it getting things organized and cleaning the house. I showered, grabbed a cup of coffee (that I failed to close properly), put on a Mickey Mouse shirt with an off-the-shoulder neckline (that I picked because it wouldn’t ruin my hair when I took it off and it happened to be white), and left the house.
Well, this series of unfortunate steps started when I was getting in the car—I tripped and spilled a big amount of coffee (remember the unclosed lid?) on my white shirt—Screw it, it’s my wedding day!—so I brushed it off and decided I didn’t care, got in the car, and drove to the salon.
I arrived five minutes before my 9:00 AM appointment, and the salon was closed; luckily, the receptionist from the doctor’s office next door asked if I wanted to sit in her waiting room, and got particularly excited when she noticed the veil hanging from my purse. That is when it hit me: Holy cow, I am getting married today!
A few minutes after nine the salon opened, and they immediately started working on me. Everything went smoothly for about an hour, and then my phone started to ring.
The first call was from Mr. Toadstool. He had volunteered to go early to the venue to set up some decorations (best groom ever!). Well, the venue staff had no idea there was an event that day (!!) and nothing was done; no tables, no chairs, no ceremony setup. The venue was a virgin space. “But don’t worry, they are working on it now. I just need you to tell them the kind of chairs you want,” were my groom’s words as I hyperventilated with a hot curling iron next to my head.
The second call was from our venue manager, again, asking about which chairs I wanted for the reception and ceremony; she had not arrived to the venue yet.
The third just about sent me into panic mode. It was Mr. Toadstool asking about our contract. Apparently the manager claimed that beverages were not included in our package (!!!), meaning our guests would only have beer and whiskey to drink. Cue panic. He told me he’d take care of everything, and not to worry. Of course I worried, I panicked, I hyperventilated and had to get up off my chair and walk around the salon a bit to keep from crying out of frustration, while everyone stared at me, thinking maybe the groom ran away or something. Fan.tastic.
The rest of the calls were not as dramatic. The manager called to ask about the contract (man, was it hard to be polite at that point), the tent people called to ask about lighting, and finally Mr. Toadstool called to say everything was taken care of and he was on his way home to shower. And I finally breathed.
By noon my hair and makeup were ready. They asked if I intended to take my veil off after the ceremony, and since I said I’d keep it on the entire night, they proceeded to pin it to my skull hair like there was no tomorrow. After that I took my coffee mug and headed home rocking a veil, professional makeup, and a coffee-stained Mickey Mouse shirt. I was getting married, people!
Who did/would you spend the morning of your wedding with? Did anything go wrong?
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