Sunday, September 17, 2006

Bet You Money My Dad Didn't Ask Either

My mother and I took my dad and J to get fitted for their tuxes for my sister's wedding today. The whole experience sums up everything that is different (and WRONG) about men. We get there first and I fill out the paperwork for J and all he does is stand up while the girl measures him. He gets annoyed because I don't remember his shoe size (UM but neither does he so WTF DUDE). Once my parents get there lather, rinse, repeat (except my dad at least knows his shoe size) and my mom and I wander the store a bit. Once they are all done we end up paying for the stupid things and making sure that we know how they can pick things up and the guys stand around staring at the TV in the store.

Later I ask J what the tuxes that Sister picked out look like . . .he has no idea. He didn't even ask.

Guy just paid a hundred bucks (or I guess he let me pay a hundred bucks) for an outfit and didn't even ask to see it.


This is in such a contrast to how bridesmaids work. I mean there are huge diplomatic conferences that take place about bridesmaids dresses (though not for this wedding thank GOD). Negotiations have to be made, usually one bitch cries, and most often the bride asks for something really unreasonable or heinous like everyone has to grow their hair to the exact same length and if that means that the girl with natural girls has to have her hair chemically straightened then SO BE IT THIS IS MY DAY.

The only other time I have been a bridesmaid this shit happened but blissfully I was not there. The other maids were her sisters and they had a battle royale that I was pleased to be a couple of thousand miles away from. It did result in us wearing crazily expensive dresses in a color that made me look naked but at least I didn't have to get in a cat fight over it.

Of course at least I knew what the damn outfit looked like.


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