Today I went to a bridal shower. Actually two. Funny story.
Today was the bridal shower for one of my oldest friends. She and I met in sixth grade at school. (Although we went to church together too and didn't know it.) We went to the same junior high, carpooled together every morning, and were known to have occasional weekend sleepovers. We went to high school together also, but started making different groups of friends. Then, she started college, moved to Provo, and we only contacted each other a couple of times a year. She is getting married now, and I was so pleased she thought of me when making a list of people to invite to her bridal shower.
The shower was in Provo. If you've never been to Provo, YOU ARE THE LUCKIEST PERSON ALIVE. Seriously. It is largely a student town where gazillions of BYU students live in the surrounding areas of campus. In this area traffic is usually ridiculous, there is NO, I mean NOOOO, zero, zip, zilch, nada, and again I repeat, NO parking. The streets are lined with red curbs, and all apartment lots are plastered with signs indicating the inhumane torture you will undergo should you decide to park there. But, I was going to a two hour bridal shower and didn't want to walk nine blocks clinging to a huge present. So I drove along the street, unsupiciously pulling in and out of little lots, until I found one large enough and vacant enough to hide my white car. I said a little prayer that I was not taking a tenet's prime parking space, and that I would not get towed or booted. . . or Chinese water torture (which I recall seeing in the fine print on the hostile sign near the entrance).
I still had to walk a block clinging to a huge present. As I approached the front door, I made note of the matching address and knocked. A squinty-eyed girl answered. She welcomed me in to sit with the already gathered girls, instructed me to help myself to a stale sandwich and some chips, took my present, and added it to the pile forming beside the table. I looked around the room and noticed that there wasn't a face I recognized. I expected this though. After all, my friend and I don't see each other often and have completely different social circles. And by that I mean she actually has a social circle.
I tried to make conversation with the young lady next to me about how horrible parking in Provo is, and another girl came over to learn our names. Every one sat awkwardly, I assumed waiting for the bride-to-be to show up. I took an instantly-regretted bite of my stale sandwich and ask the girl beside me how she knew my friend. She at once looked shocked. "Who?" She said. I repeated the name and asked if this was her bridal shower. The silence was palpable. Twelve girls stared me down until a few looked away, feeding off of my discomfort. I tried again. "Isn't this [such and such] address?" The hostess confirmed, but politely asked me what apartment number I was looking for. Clearly not use to being in apartments that required extra numbers I said I thought it was two. Hesitant chuckles began to emanate from some of the guests and the hostess told me I could stay and finish eating.
I was already running late for the REAL bridal shower. So I asked for my present back and exited the silent scene, sandwich and all.
I walked around the corner of the building nearly in tears. You see, when I said apartment number two, I was merely guessing. But considering my invitation was in my car parked down the block (and I'm still caring my HUGE present, people!) I geared myself up for knocking on every door in the building until I found another bridal shower to crash.
Apartment number two had a large front window, and as I ascended the steps leading to the door I noticed a table with neatly place finger food just inside. I said my second prayer of the adventure, spun around in a circle three times, wished upon a star, ate a four leafed clover, had an asthma attack, and then rang the doorbell.
You can imagine my relief when the door swung open and my friend excitedly called out my name. I entered explained why I was caring a stale roll and old lunch meat, had a good laugh with the new bridal shower group, and was treated with tasty hummus and cucumber sandwiches.
When the party was over I stepped outside and called my husband. I didn't want to be alone in the event that I stumbled upon a booted car or no car at all. Or a creepy Chinese guy with a pitcher of water. He talked me down the street until I came to my car, unscathed and just as I'd left it.
Take THAT, PROVO!
I'm glad today is over.