Sunday, August 22, 2010
This weekend, I found myself at one of the most upscale bridal shops in Cosmopolitan City. I should preface this by mentioning that I haven’t been to many weddings at all (let alone trying to plan one). I’m pretty much a nuptual novice. Perhaps I should have brought an entourage to help me find a dress, however I felt that I would have an easer time on my own. Having an easy time at Upscale Bridal Shop was not meant to be.
Quite typically, I encountered the worst of the stereotype of the hoity-toity salesperson. It was so Pretty Woman. Ummmm, ladies, please remember… You work there. I shop there. ‘Nuff said. Trust me - if I didn’t have the gold Visa limit of my mother, the spare-no-expense-for-the-love-of-god-you’re-finally-getting-married June Cleaver-Blogshaw, I wouldn’t have bothered walking through the door. Jeez!
Apparently, according to the Vera Wankers, it’s simply scandalous to ask if the famed designer would create such an ungodly concoction as a cocktail or tea length dress. The horror! You would have thought that I’d asked where the collection of polyester dresses was… I also had the nerve to ask if any of the Wankers were available to help me, as most were just sitting around looking average. After much dissatisfied clucking and rolling of the eyes, I was told that they only work by appointment. Of course. Since when did wankers become important enough to work by appointment only??? In my experience, you certainly don’t need a good time to have a Vera Wanker!