Wedding Story
Valentines Day, a romantic date for a wedding right? In addition to the romance surrounding the holiday, your hubby has massive media reminders year after year, giving him no excuses to forget your anniversary. Well, that was my thinking when I scheduled my wedding for February 14, 1997.
Like most weddings, I expected a few flubs, but I did not expect things to go quite as they did. The day started at the beauty parlor with my two best friends and bride’s maids. These lovely ladies, whom I adore, do not get along and have always been uncomfortable around one another. This alone made the morning tense.
As the beauticians began, the atmosphere was awkward but things were moving in the right direction. My hair was looking even better than I imagined, with beautiful red ringlets pouring from were my cr�¨me and burgundy rosette-crown would later rest. My friends were getting their hair done in an upswept do with ringlets like mine. They would look like twins I had thought, with their brunette hair being similar in length and color and later their sexy pink gowns hanging seductively on similar size four frames.
Mary was finished first and she look just as beautiful as I had imagined, I could not wait to see Sarah’s. But Sarah’s beautician was having trouble and complaining that Sarah’s hair was just too thin for this style of up-do. I could see the tears in Sarah’s eyes, she was obviously disappointed, wanting my special day to be just as I had pictured. Then came the mood setter for the day. Sarah’s beautician says in a very matter of fact tone with absolutely no compassion, “You’re going bald! There’s nothing I can do with this.”
Mary set off to do some errands and said she would see us at the chapel later, obviously anxious to leave the edgy situation at the salon. I was all done with my hair and make-up so I headed across the salon to cheer up my dear friend. “You’re not going bald,” I insisted, “you look beautiful.” “It doesn’t look anything like Mary’s,” she whimpered, “hers really does look beautiful.” As I’m looking over the progress of the frowning beautician I notice that Sarah’s twist is much tighter than Mary’s, the obvious reason for her scalp showing. It had no body or volume and was pinned too tight to her head. I must have worn a disapproving expression, for the beautician hastily points to the top of Sarah’s head and says, “See that bald spot! There’s nothing I can do to cover that up.” She sounded offended that I had brought someone in with thin hair. But the twist was so tight, she had left no room for adjustment. I knew the truth – she didn’t want to spend another hour re-twisting and pinning Sarah’s hair, so she was blaming the predicament on Sarah being bald.
Sarah however did not see things my way and believed she was going bald. Before we left the salon my Maid of Honor was sobbing hysterically about her hideous balding future. I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to convince her that she was not going bald. However sincere, my efforts were useless and she remained weepy and distracted for the entirety of the day.
Sarah was so distracted in fact, that when we finally reached the alter and the Priest asked for our rings Sarah looked at me with an expression mixed with fear, humility, and desperation. She had forgotten the ring! That’s right, just like in the movies, only it was the Maid of Honor not the Best Man who lost the ring. Our Priest and family friend is not known for being subtle and asks loudly in an irritated voice, “You forgot the ring?”
To this day Sarah swears she ruined my wedding, but she had no part in the follies that followed. We survived the ceremony with only one ring and a lot of embarrassment, but when we left the church I took a nasty fall which ruined my beautiful, hand-beaded gown, ripping the satin and streaking it with grease and oil from the parking lot.
But it does not end there readers. My new husband and I finally departed and headed east where we had reserved a honeymoon sweet at the Hilton Dallas. It should have taken only twenty or thirty minutes, but my husband had never been to Dallas and it would up taking us nearly eight hours to find our hotel.
That my friends, was a day I will never forget. I’m happy to report that 8 years later we are still happily married. Obviously the quality of your wedding has nothing to do with the quality of your marriage!
