Getting the Boot From The Bridal Shower
You can call me a contemporary groom, as I actually wanted to go to the surprise bridal shower thrown for my fiance’ over the weekend. Not just because I knew there would be an elaborate spread of food and desserts, but because I had only seen them on television and in movies and wanted to if all the rowdiness was indeed a staple at most showers.
I was part of the trickery of getting her to the place and letting her walk into a huge “SURPRISE!” greeting from all in attendance. This was no small feat, as my fiance’ is extremely inquisitive and has a keen sense of deduction. (Translation: she’s nosy as hell)
I somehow was able to convince her that I wanted her to come with me to an early afternoon meeting at a Masonic fellowship hall in downtown Baltimore on Saturday afternoon. It seemed like it would’ve been an elaborate cover, as I am a member of the Masonic fraternity, but have not been affiliated or active with a lodge for a couple of years. I told her this about a week or so prior, and she seemed to go along with it. Although I had a multitude of instructions from her matron of honor (make sure she wears jeans, have her there between 2:45 and 3:00 p.m.) I figured it was a short order.
The day of, my lady decides that she prefers to be difficult about what she’s going to wear, what time we are leaving, etc. It was at this point that I thought she had stumbled upon the plan, but kept it cool enough that I didn’t give anything away in my frustration with her indecision. We venture down to the area where the hall was located, and I knew exactly where it was from the jump. My fiance’ on the other hand, was soon thrown off the trail, as she expected to be chauffered to a completely different location than a real Masonic lodge.
We walked down the tree-lined block on the warm day hand in hand, and I could feel the anticipation in her loosened grip. To heighten the excitement of the moment for everyone involved, I walked past the doors where the event was to the actual lodge. You know, just to throw a cup of ants in her and the guests pants. We doubled back and she walked into a shower of paparazzi.
People took turns playing games and expressing their love and fond memories of the beautiful bride. Tears flowed openly and freely, and it was a good time had by all. Then the shopping bags came out, and you would’ve thought it transformed into an actual lodge meeting. Whispers emanated from the tables, and piercing gazes all motioned my way in an singular effort to move me out of the room. Before I could say, “equal opportunity,” I found myself being gently chided into heading out the door.
I then found myself in a small park across the street from the lodge, entertaining myself with bubble breaker on my cell phone. It was a far cry from the “we know you two will be so happy together,” and “Jarrett is such a wonderful guy” sentiments I had heard no more than an hour previously. 15, 30, 40 minutes went by, and still no sign of any one coming out to say, “Okay, Jarrett. Come back in and get that piece of cake you wanted.”
Nope. Just me, the trees and a Pocket PC.
I did make it back in, only to enter to the conclusion of the party, and clean-up duty with the hostesses. And as the official bridal shower gift transport. The day turned out to be a success, but one thing is for certain if you are looking to have one of those “equal opportunity” showers.
Be prepared to have your parade rained on.