when we last left, bridezilla and supergenius had just finished the battle heretofore known as The Ostentatious Display of Attendants. supergenius left stunned and defeated, but all was not lost because a mere two weeks later bridezilla (aka sister #4) had caved in to the supergenius relentless pleas to be only an usher in bridezilla’s wedding.
of course everyone knows the relentless pleas really had nothing to do with the bridezilla’s acquiescence, but rather it was a force much bigger than both bridezilla and supergenius at work here: Mom. this mighty hero of yore swooped in and proclaimed: “there is no way you are making her walk down the aisle with someone who is under 6-feet!” and mom was revered throughout the land for saving the 6’5″ supergenius from the dress, the shoes, the matching jewlery, the tanning, the hair, the midgety groomsman, and everything else awful to do with being a bridesmaid.
supergenius was much happy with her new role as an usher, until bridezilla with an evil laugh reminded the victorious supergenius that she said if she didn’t have to spend money on all the stupid one-time-only accoutrements of bridesmaidom, she would help with the designing and purchasing of invitations.
so when the phone rang on friday, bridezilla was in the mood for invitations.
“i found these really cute ones that have the top 10 reasons we’re getting married,” she said.
“what?” i asked.
“it says things like #4: we need a new toaster. #7: we haven’t seen our friends and family in awhile.”
“oh,” i said, horrified.
“what?” she said, noticing the horror in my voice. damn that sister for knowing me too well.
“well, they just sound tacky,” i said. as soon as the words were out of my mouth i knew i was in for heap of big trouble.
“TACKY?!?” she screeched in a pitch that caused the phone to offer up some nasty feedback into my ear and the neighborhood dogs to howl.
“yeah,” i said, because i am stupid. “it’s like you are making light of marriage and all that.”
“but it’s funny,” she said. “i think it says we’re a fun couple who like to laugh.”
“ok,” i said. “it seems to me that it looks like a fun couple who don’t know what the hell they are getting themselves into.”
clearly the supergenius is not the genius she thinks she is.
“you really think they are tacky?” she asked.
“yes,” i said again. she might have given the smallest whimper, i’m not sure. or it might have been the sound of my brain cells suddenly engaging. “but, but, but it doesn’t matter what i think. you should do whatever is going to make you happy. it’s your special day.”
oh, crisis avoided, i thought to myself. i am so naive.
“but what if people get them in the mail and think they are tacky?” she asked.
“it doesn’t matter what they think.”
“i don’t want them to think i’m tacky.”
“maybe i’m just a big supersnob and only i think they are tacky,” i said.
“well you are kind of a snob,” she said.
“YES! yes, of course. we just have different tastes. you should get whatever you like.”
“i do like them.”
“but i don’t want people to think i am tacky,” she said.
of course, it got worse from there. that same day, after the phonecall, and before bowling i stopped by mamala and dad’s to talk about the matchbox in the sky. sister #3 and kids were there, sister #2 and kids were soon to join.
bridezilla was worked into a full froth.
“do you think they are tacky now that you see them?” bridezilla asked, flinging the invitation at me.
“they’re not as tacky as i thought,” i said.
“i think they’re cute,” sister #3, the traitorous bitch said.
it got worse from there. lucky for me, by the time they hauled out the invitation catalogs, i had to leave.
the next day at SJBT i asked sister #3 about it.
“so did bridezilla find an invitation?” i asked.
“no,” she said. “you have got to learn to shut your mouth.”
“she said she’d have been ok if you had just said you didn’t like them, but you used the word tacky.”
“they are tacky!” i said.
“oh, i know,” sister #3 said. “but you don’t have to tell her what you really think.”
“she has to stop asking me what i think.”
“you have to shut your mouth.”
hopefully i will smarten up before round III.
I can’t believe you actually uttered:
It seems to me that would be the equivalent of calling out the bully on the playground by insulting his mother or something. I’m surprised she didn’t respond to it and instead kept on going off on the tacky comment!
Still, good footwork. Amazing the way you ducked and avoided many of her swings. I’m guessing the decision of the judges in this boxing match would go to you, since you did successfully get her to avoid the tacky invitations.
“…since you did successfully get her to avoid the tacky invitations.”
For now, Damon. For now. They will make a comeback, you can rest assured. Bridezillas are like that.
I didn’t say ALL tacky invitations…
At least I think I can safely say the “Top Ten” invites are toast, tho.
“it seems to me that it looks like a fun couple who don’t know what the hell they are getting themselves into.”
Where did I see that before… Oh yes, here it is… the definition of marriage!
Let’s see… she’s having a ginornous wedding with many attendants… and she wants invitations that scream “Casual wedding and keg party, wear your best cutoffs and halter tops”?
Seriously, if I got an invite like that, I’d assume it was a jeans and flip-flops kind of affair. 🙂
calli where were friday when i was arguing with her?