On bridal showers:
Here’s the thing about bridal showers. They’re boring.
A good round of Toilet Paper Bride or Bridal Bingo – the classics – will liven up the room. And if the blushing bride blushes easily, giving her dildos or crotchless panties or penis-shaped pasta is good for a laugh. (The older guests especially love this for some reason.) But otherwise you’ve got a bunch of semi-random women tossed together, lamely small-talking, watching the bride rip into a million tulle-covered gifts and eating, just because it’s something to do. While simultaneously complaining that they shouldn’t be eating whatever they’re eating because it’s so fattening. As though they need to apologize for eating it.
Nine times a bridesmaid, three times maid of honor, and I swear I just described every single shower I ever attended or helped plan. It’s a “party” set up purely to give the bride another round of gifts and silly bouquets made out of gift-wrap leftovers. It’s the “all about me” attitude taken to the nth degree, with very little in it for the guests other than, well, food, and some sort of tulle-wrapped pink party favor. It’s a setup bound for failure. I love weddings but I don’t much like showers.
If you’re lucky, the shower is held in a restaurant: The food is better, and they’ll need the banquet room for something else eventually so you’ll only be sitting there three hours, tops. That’s what I did for Jaci, on my first tour of duty as maid of honor, if only because no one, including the bride, had a house or apartment big enough to hold everyone. It was completely standard and slightly snooze-inducing, because I didn’t know any better yet, but fortunately Jaci’s relatives are an utter riot and spent the entire time mocking her – they even brought embarrassing childhood pictures to show around. It became more of a roast than a shower, until Jaci stood up and cheerfully, profanely told everyone off, then led us all in a toast as we were laughing. Have I mentioned I love Jaci’s family? Sometimes I wish they would adopt me.
Most of my other shower experiences, however, have been in homes. This is unfortunate, because home showers stretch on endlessly – conducted in living rooms, hors d’oeuvres out of the freezer arranged along the coffee table, no music or waiters or anyone to help clean up, bridal party frantically running around to set up games and snacks and a spot to open gifts in an unfamiliar house and they can’t find the paper towels and there’s no orange juice for mimosas. Which turns out to be fine, since everyone else in the house is a teetotaler and you bridesmaids are the only ones who even want booze, you lushes. And then you steal an extra brownie out of annoyance. Or maybe that was just me.