Thursday, April 10, 2008

Tackiest Shower Ever

Last Saturday evening J and I attended a couples shower for a lovely friend of mine. The bride is a sweet girl whom I see at least a couple times per month at our women’s organization as well as bunco and a few other social events. We were all so excited when she and her boyfriend got engaged. The following weekend I had a little dinner party and women of the soiree were quite the captive audience when listening to the engagement story. Sadly, it sucked. We kept waiting for the exciting part, only it sucked. Moving on.

I was very excited and seeing as how I love to entertain I immediately told her I wanted to host a shower for the bunco girls. We were all thrilled. Then I received and email from the bride, let’s call her Jane, because, well, that’s her name. I received an email from Jane with a save the date message for a couple’s shower her friend was hosting. There were only a few girls on the bunco list on that email. At the bottom she put this.

“Shhhh! It’s only your girls from the group. Lovely, fabulous, darling Mrs. M, don’t worry about a shower. Just come to this one it’s going to loads of fun.”

Hmm, seeing as how our “group” sees each other at least twice per month I found it odd she couldn’t throw out a few extra invites as she is inviting 350-400 people to the wedding. A bit awkward I think.

Finally I receive the invitation to the shower. The invitation is dark teal and burgundy colors and is very floral and nearly paisley. It’s hand written on the inside, a fill-in-the-blank style, which is totally fine. Then, there is a picture of the couple at the top with “fiesta” type stickers and also a load of “fiesta” confetti inside. Fine! Not everyone can be the cutsy-tutsy paper crafter that I am and get a total high off of making things on their own that are darling and because I’m a glutton for punishment I made all my wedding invitations, save-the-dates, etc. so I let it slide.

What I couldn’t let slide was the printed and pasted strip at the bottom. It read:

“John would like Bass Pro Shop gift cards or cash for electronics. Jane is registered at Dillard’s, The Pottery Barn, and Bed, Bath, and Beyond. And remember, gift cards are always appreciated.”

(Actually it was worse than that but I cleaned up the grammar and punctuation a bit).

Pick your jaw up off the floor. It really said that! How tacky! People, we live in the South for crying out loud! And I mean no offense to my darling Northern counterparts (Jenny, Rusti XOXO!) because I know they are far too classy and lovely to do such a thing. I’m just saying that the South is known to be a bit more smug, proper, and follow etiquette rules to a T.

First of all, THEY are engaged, THEY are planning a wedding, THEY are getting married. This is not separate Christmas lists. Furthermore does Idiot Hostess think I’m going to go slip John a $20? “Hey Dude, get yourself a nice DVD from the M’s.” Puh-leeze! I instead found a nice teapot they’d (or, um, Jane) registered for from the Pottery Barn of which I received 40% discount (thankyouverymuch!). As a side note, I always pick out something I’d want for myself. You know, in case they don’t walk down the aisle and give it back. I’m just sayin’!

(The registry is a whole other post. I already have a registry pet peeve about some things but the 6,000 in pots and pans pretty much did it here. Let’s just say it made my darling friend look like a greedy snot./end rant).

I call up the hostess to RSVP for the party and left a message.

“Hi (Idiot Hostess) this is (the Mrs. M). I’m calling in response to the invitation for John and Jane’s couple shower. Thank you so much for the invitation, my husband and I are honored to attend. Also if there is anything I can do to help you please let me know. I adore Jane and would be happy to assist.”

It was true. I’d be happy to make dessert, help decorate, clean-up, etc. Especially the clean-up. You know I’m a freak about cleaning.

J and I went on a date that evening and I didn’t take my phone. I returned to a message from Idiot Hostess.

“Hi (Southern Belle whom I could learn from, Mrs. M) this is (Idiot Hostess). Thanks so much for calling. The party is going to be great. I don’t think I need any help right now. I think I have a bartender coming, despite his personal issues ( ?????). There will be a party bucket there so if anyone wants to pitch in with the party expenses that would be great."

Oh. Yes. She. DID! So help me, the South will rise again and they’re all going to open a can of whoop-ass on this idiot! Ok, rule number one of hosting a party, don’t host a party you can’t afford. Rule number two, don’t insult a Southern Belle by suggesting she “pitch in” for a party where she is a guest. Rule number three DON’T HOST A DAMN PARTY YOU CAN’T AFFORD!

Oh friends, you’d think it’s over, but it gets better. Keep reading.

This party has been way talked up. It’s in the evening beginning at 7:30 p.m. and my little crew of guests have been told how amazing it’s going to be and how the food will be delish and it’s being catered, etc. It really appears to be more of an engagement party but “shower” was thrown on to ensure gifts.

We’re stoked despite all the tackiness.

Party night turns out to be dreary, cold, and rainy. Although I’d like to wear my comfy’s all evening and cuddle up with my J, I get all dolled up and head to the “Fiesta”.

We are the first of my crew of friends to arrive. The guest of honor comes to greet me followed by the Idiot Hostess. Let me know just say, seeing her cleared up a lot. A whole lot!

Ring Ring! Lisa Turtle called, she wants her clothes back. Picture overtanned 40 year old skin that resembles a well-worn leather sofa. Dark black hair that doesn’t appear in nature and curtain bangs. Too tight white capris that shouldn’t be worn by anyone. An orange t-shirt with some funky gold design. A white woven, braided type belt with gold something or other weaved in it. And my favorite, white and gold flashy athletic shoes that appear to be baby phat a la T.J. Maxx rejected clearance. Just had to throw all that in there.

Idiot Hostess hands me a drink ticket that reads “one free margarita”.

Yes, I received a drink ticket. At a party I was invited to as a guest.

Idiot Hostess leads me to the “bar” which is a table blocking off the kitchenette area in the corporate break room of her husband’s company. I hand over my ticket to the “bartender.”

Oh the bartender. Let’s just say something tells me his “personal issues” involved an orange jump suit living downtown with bars, and not the kind that serves drinks.

And he reeked of stale cigarette smoke.

When he turned around to get ice for my drink the Idiot Hostess mouthed to me “isn’t he cute”. I responded with a blank stare.

As he was getting my drink, straight out of the $5 Target party bucket with spout, I noticed a taped piece of notebook paper to the table. Sit down if you’re not already.

Margarita’s $4
Sweet Tea $2
Coke Products $2

You’ve got to be kidding me. Seriously? It was the worst margarita ever! Was there even tequila in it? I think it was lime kool-aid and salt. Regular table salt, not margarita/drink rimming salt. Oh, and you have to ask for the lime. AND I DID!

The coke products were in cans. The sweet tea was sitting on the table in a Kroger gallon jug. The entire jug wasn’t even $2. As for the sodas, I think I’d have went to the drink machine and put in my fifty cents.

Let’s talk about the food. You know, the delicious catered food.

It was chips and dip.

Yes, I was invited to a party at dinnertime where I was told there would be food and there was chips and dip. I’d joked that I’d better eat a snack before hand because she’d likely rip the second taco from my hands, but this was beyond my expectations.

Oh, but it was catered from a Mexican restaurant chain, three days ago apparently.

The chips were the large corn tortilla variety that are only good hot, or they’re a greasy stale mess. The queso was so cold it could have been cubed and put on toothpicks. The bean dip was cold and too spicy to eat since I couldn’t get anything to drink (ad if I’d pay!) and the salsa was ok but a bit spicy as well.

After some lame and inappropriate games for a couple’s shower my stomach was about to eat itself and this “fiesta” was more of a “siesta.” The crew and I decided to jump ship and head to a neighborhood Cheers-type bar for good food and alcohol. We trickled out, all by 10 p.m. Siesta indeed!

We arrived at The Roost and gabbed over delicious fried bar food and several pitchers of Blue Moon (that were only $8 each!!!) like the hen house we are about the atrocious site we just witnessed. Even the men chimed up at the horrid event.

I think I need to send Idiot Hostess Mrs. M’s Guide to Entertaining. And also send her back to planet Idiot, population 1.

I don’t feel words do as much justice as my animated and dramatic story telling, but hopefully you understand the complete and utter tackiness.

What’s your worst ever party story? Have you experienced anything quite so tacky?

(Addy—I’ve not been able to catch up to share this story first, I do want to tell you this in person. You and your mother will be horrifed!!)


Kas said...

Woah, what a disaster! I don't think I've ever been to a party/shower as bad as that. Thank God. :)

JayJenny said...

Tacky, so tacky!! I can't even imagine! I think the worse part is the gift request. It sounds like they should have been paying you for attending and lowering your entertainment standards... you are a wonder woman for making it more than five minutes! She should have let you throw her an amazing celebration - I would!! ;)

And thank you for acknowledging that even us northern gals (Rusti and I) have our manners about us :) - not all the time, but we try!

Alicia said...

Oh My Goodness! Are you kidding me? Me....being another Northerner...would never in a million bazillion years...EVER host anything like that. My party hosting consists of Martha and Mrs. M. :-)
You're a champ for making it through!

♥ Mrs. L said...

Wow that was tacky! Who in their right mind would throw such a so-called shower. And you had to pay for your own drinks? Crazy!