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So today I had my very first wedding dress shopping appointment. Raye, Dani and my mum went with me (while my dad who drove my mum and I went to a nearby cafe). Wedding dress appointment went really well, even though that store itself (I didn't notice until after I had made the appointment) was well out of my price range. All the same, the woman working with us was super nice and helpful, and I got some ideas at least as far as what cuts work with my body and what doesn't. It's kinda surreal doing this whole being the bride thing. It feels weird to have such attention on me and my sense of modesty is somewhat confused. I was surprisingly not hard on myself. I think the practicality of figuring out what works for me trumps my getting down on myself. Plus it's strange how much the six-year-old "pretty princess" phase Mir comes out of recesses of my psyche. Anyway, it was a useful first stab at trying on pretty dresses. I believe that after this I'll be trying on things I can afford and getting somewhere which I can do better now that I know which dresses simply aren't going to work.

So after the dress appointment, we were thinking of going to lunch. We were in Green Lake and thought the Green Lake Bar & Grill but, as it was a sunny Sunday, Green Lake was crazy crowded and there would have been a long wait. So instead, we meandered around to try to find someplace else and ended up at the Little Red Hen, which is so not the type of place I'd even expect to exist in Seattle proper. It's a country bar (& restaurant) with a little dance floor and stage where I presume country bands play on the weekends and what not. At 1:30 or so on a Sunday afternoon it was quiet enough. We got a booth in the corner and were being served by the most un-put-together, clueless waiter I've ever seen. He messed up orders, he sauntered to our table while texting someone on his phone, he kept calling my dad 'bro' and it was so obvious that he didn't want to be there. He was such the embodiment of a bad waiter I couldn't help but give him a pass for it because it was downright entertaining.

It wasn't all just the waiter either, the kitchen didn't really have it all together either. The food came out one at a time. My food came first. then about five minutes later came my mum's. Seven minutes later my dad's. Then Raye's side order of sausage patties came out, looking lonely on the side of the table. Finally, a couple minutes after that, as I was well into my fish & chips and my starter salad was long gone, Raye & Dani's food came out.

After I waited for Raye and Dani to be done with their meals, the three of us went out to smoke. To backtrack a bit, when we had come in to the bar originally, we noticed that many of the tables around ours were reserved. We didn't know what they were reserved for. As we were eating people started coming in and using the tables.When us girls came back from our post-meal cigarette, I learned what the table reservations were for--a wake. However, the wake wasn't just going on privately at the few tables near us. No they had pretty much rented out the whole bar and were were using the stage and the PA system for the event. A man, who I hope to god nobody paid, made the most rambling speech about the dearly departed Olaf who at 89 years young had passed on to be reunited with his loving wife of 58 years Dorothy (who apparently passed just before).

An hour before I had been trying on wedding dresses for the first time with my close friends and mother--one of those big life moments, right. Suddenly we were all trapped in the most awkward post-restaurant-meal conversation ever. It was a conversation of what was not said. It was a conversation of chewing back giggles and eyes diverting from one another for fear that we might do the utmost disgustingly inappropriate thing imaginable--succumb to the laughter. And the man giving the speech certainly wasn't helping us any.

"Olaf was born in 1923...at the time Calvin Coolidge graced the cover of Life Magazine..When Olaf was 14....Then Olaf met Dorothy..." My favorite part of the speech, which attests to the absurd detail of Olaf's life this guy decided to delve into, was when he painted the picture of Olaf's time working as a garbage man. "He believed in hard work; he spent two years working as a garbage man, which required lifting 30 gallon bins of garbage--smelly, dirty and certainly heavy--taking them from the back of people's home in alley ways and placing it into the truck, then return the bin to the homes and moving on to the next." Thanks, guy, for explaining it to me because I had no idea what garbage men did.

This went on and on. The fact that earlier at the table Dani and I were at one point talking about Coupling (90s British comedy) and The Giggle Loop bit had been mentioned (which is essentially about struggling to not laugh in inappropriate situations) meant that I had succumbed to the Giggle Loop myself. My mum is a slow eater and our crap waiter naturally took forever with the checks but eventually, after the long, long speech of Olaf's life story (ask me anything, he loved to dance, he fancied himself an inventor, he was a landlord, he spruced up the property out on the land, he was a charmer) plus the "lets think of words to describe Olaf and Dorothy portion" and just as we were getting into the open mic section of "my life with Olaf" we were able to escape the bar and the most awkward yet strikingly hilarious meal sit down public meal I've ever experienced. And I once sat next to a guy who looked a dead ringer for Mr. Bean for two and a half hours at Andy's company holiday party. I thought that giggle loop was bad.

So yeah, Cheers to you Olaf! My you rest in peace. I know I had done well in life if I have that many folks at my wake when I'm 89 years old. But for god sakes, and I say this for the record guys, whatever you do DON'T commemorate my life with a speech as banal and tedious as the one I heard today. My modesty doesn't really know how to deal with this whole being the bride thing, I'd turn over in my grave if you bored my guests to tears with every in-and-out of my life. That's what I kept a blog for. :)


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 11th, 2013 03:16 am (UTC)
I can't believe you haven't heard of Little Red Hen. Along with the Tractor and The Shanty Tavern (although not much anymore), those are where all the rockabilly hipsters hang out for country and rockabilly show. Little Red Hen leans more country, but all the rockabilly chicks I know go there. Anyway, it's a place to go to at night, no in the daylight... or for wakes! :)
Feb. 11th, 2013 05:00 am (UTC)
Raye had been maybe Dani too. I guess I just didn't get off the hill enough. That and it seemed VERY country to me which is not a selling point more a deturant.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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