Some of my really good and close friends, I met randomly and unexpectedly. We experienced or saw something nice and lovely and as a result, had the same warm and fuzzy feelings. A conversation ensues over a situation we find ourselves in, or we witness something really unbecoming. Wherein we feel the same urge to roll our eyes into our scalp and then eventually do that. Roll our eyes that is, to that nasty occurrence or maybe attitude. Or maybe we met while visiting a place of mutual interest. And/or probably studied in the school of life together. Who knows these things anymore?
Anyway the point of the unending explanation, is that something clicked between us when we met. Like the ‘It’ factor, it is either there, or it is not. You either have it, or you don’t have it. That is one of those few things that cannot be faked. And you and I, are the grateful for it. Aren’t we now? I have to move on with this blog though, no time for arguments. I do ask your pardon as I rush right along.
Anyway, where was I again? So you meet this stranger and it feels like you have known them for a long time. There are mutual interests and understandings. You can share, talk and walk in unison with the person. And for the most part, you agree. I mean it would not be plausible that two people would be perceived as walking together, if they were really going the opposite direction from each other. But what in this upside down world, does the above rambling have to do with the story I am about to tell you? We will find out in a pair of minutes.
This part of my life and memory, almost got blanked out completely. I wonder why? It was not really as bad as most other memories. Though it had its own fair share of inflicted treachery. I will call it the bridesmaid era. I was just a few dresses short of ‘27’. Half of the dresses, were worn for brides I did not even know that well. A friend of a cousin’s in-law saw me in her brother’s wedding train, then contacted the wife of the sister to ask me to be in their wedding. You know that sought of thing. And I rarely declined.
Knowing what I know now, I should have run a bridesmaid for hire business. My advertisement would have probably looked something like this:
'Bridesmaid for hire
Three years advance notice
No chiffon allowed.'
What did I have against chiffon? I don’t know. I think once I almost got choked to death with it. I blacked that mess out. So let’s move on.
It was real fun while it lasted. That era I mean. Every color and every dress fit beautifully. Well not exactly, there was that one that bust the zipper at my rear end. And the other one that looked like a drape. With the layered frills at the hem, that caused me to trip in church….
So there I was having a ball ‘bridesmaid-ing’ until I declared; ‘NO MORE!’
Or until the dark forces entered the picture. Whichever came first. So this friend I met along the lines I just described six paragraphs ago. You can’t be reading this line, if you did not read the ones above it. I declare law and order, in blog reading. So we will wait for you to catch up. Yes you.
It was a random meeting, that blossomed into a lovely friendship. Two different backgrounds, upbringing, disposition, exposure and what else have you. The relationship was in sync with its present. And its future outlook was imbued with positive expectations. In fact, my friend was an appreciated cheer leader in the throes of pageant-dom days.
My new friend, actually had a lot of family and friends. However, through no scheme, campaign nor manipulation of mine. I was promptly positioned at the bff status. You know the first person she called when there was an emergency. Even though I would end up asking for the solution from her since I was much younger and naïve.
I was propelled and promoted, for the simple reason that I was real, trustworthy and dependable. (Never mind That I had my big mouth.) I did not need to inflict or concoct any petty and insidious shenanigans to feel good or better about myself. I did not need or want what belonged to someone else. I was just me and content with me. Even as the storm raged in my life. (But that is another blog another day.)
My realness, was a refreshing breath of fresh air to my friend. And so it was, our fun-filled adventure. She was a good caring friend and I too was a keeper.
When she announced her engagement, I was just as excited. I saw the whole thing go down and it felt like a script I could have written myself. I will always love me some structured drama.
The wedding was scheduled to take place, not too long after the engagement. So much so, that the planning became an event on its own. I confess that I was half asleep most of the time, simply because I was embroiled in a very delicate work and study commitment. But I do remember the joy of cake tasting. How could I forget, it is indelibly pasted on my sweets craving buds.
Not long after the planning began, she named me her maid of honor. And just on cue, I started to get hate mails. How ridiculous I thought. Did she not reserve the right, to do what she wanted on her special day? For peace sake, I even happily volunteered the coveted position. But she would not hear of it. Instead and unbeknownst to me, she absolved a whole lot foolish queries to defend her decision.
The points raised by the rioters were valid, if you ask me. They had known her longer; I did not 'hitch my wagon to their hood' (Of which I was glad). And they had a better chance of being noticed by their future plans. Now for that last part, I would have left town to get out of their way. You never know, these people get vicious.
However, the bottom line was the bride reserved the right. To fix her special day, the way she saw fit and felt comfortable with. Imagine having someone standing next to you, whose main concern was to fix an imaginary plan. While disrupting your ongoing shine and day. May we be saved from such human hawks.
Could that be why she avoided them in the first place? You know deep down, people know the truth and the real deal. Even though they don’t spill or talk about it. And that was her way and personality.
Come wedding day. I was giddy as I eyed the cake hungrily. Hoping they would fast forward to the part when it would be sliced eventually. But on a serious note, the poor bride was seriously disturbed. Sigh. Something to do with the ‘hoodlums’ pestering her and threatening me. Who let these psychopaths loose? I wondered. Upset that they were making her feel that way, when she had no reason to.
She begged me to ignore whatever plot they had in store and I promised that would be my best wedding gift ever.
True to their threats and trouble tease, they delivered. I was pulled, pushed and shoved. My dress was nailed to the wall. My hair was glued together as I was cynically sidled away from the camera’s lenses. But it found me. The camera that is. It diligently sought and found me. What can I say? Can a mere mortal re-write the call of destiny?
At the reception, my name was switched. And It appeared that someone had eaten my chair, because it was nowhere to be found. Strange as it may sound or feel, I held my own. At least visibly. Yet all the while, I scanned and collected data on the distracting and disturbing rodents.
After much observation, I narrowed it down to a ring leader. The very one who thought it should have been her. Totally disregarding what or how the bride felt. As soon as the bride and her groom got into their sail boat, or was it the limousine? When I was sure they were blissfully headed to their honeymoon and some unsuspecting damsel had caught the bouquet.
I began to march towards the ‘minister of mischief and misery’. She saw me a mile away and wove her hands dramatically and excitedly. ‘Wow, so good to have finally met you.' Was her enthusiastic greeting. A speech so heavily slurred by a drunken stupor. For starters, I thought I would throw up at the sickening but broad smile she wore on her face.
The end.