When my best friend Ashley asked me to be her maid of honor, I was OBVIOUSLY touched and excited and nervous all at the same time. At first I’m all, like, “Awhhhhh Ashley!” Bouncing hugs in the middle of the street in that way that us girls do, and then I’m like, “F*** yeah b****es! I win!” pumping my first in the air the way that us Jersey Girls do. But then I’m like, “Oh s*it. I’M supposed to plan a wedding?!” I can barely plan my lunch, and thusly dump loads of money ordering out--seriously, I’d be a f***ing millionaire by now (okay, that’s not true, but I’d have significantly more money) if I could just get my shit together and pack a lunch. But I don’t. It doesn’t even happen once a week, and that’s if I’m lucky, and now I have to plan a wedding??? A wedding all the way in Vermont, no less??? She’s not nearly the level of hot mess that a bride can be, though, so my job hasn’t been as hard as I thought it would be. That is, of course, until it comes time to plan the bachelorette party.
I never thought that the bachelorette party is where things would start getting hard. Rule Numero Uno: IT’S ALL ABOUT THE BRIDE. ALWAYS. AT ALL. TIMES. Now, I find that easy enough to comprehend, and seeing that she’s my best friend, I know what she likes and we enjoy many of the same things. The problem? Her bridesmaids...
There are only three of us total. Three. But to be honest, you wouldn’t even know there were that many seeing as how I’m the only one who has helped with the invitations, the bridal shower, hair and makeup decisions, keeping in touch with the mother of the bride, etc. And that’s all fine. I know I have more responsibilities than the rest of these girls, being the HBIC and all, so whatever, if they want to show up an hour before the bridal shower starts and ask what they can do to help we’ll just tell ‘em that it was all set up the night before when you couldn’t make it, and the foods been cooked because we all got here at the butt crack of dawn. That’s fine, but don’t think that when all the fun, pin-the-junk on the hunk games come out, that you get a say.
So one night recently, I was out with my boo catchin’ some Pokemon and loading up on my Pokeballs at one of my local Pokestops with about 2 dozen fellow Pokemon trainers when I got a text from one of the bridesmaids, regarding some ideas that I shared with her the other day (mostly just to make conversation, not really asking for her to weigh in on). This text says, “Sarah and I don’t really like the wine and painting idea,” and I’ll admit, I’m aggravated. I wasn’t married to the wine and painting idea, but still, I’m pissed. My boyfriend can see this as I’m texting back with more force than necessary. “OK, I’m open. What’re your ideas.” Trying to jab at them for not coming up with ANYTHING for this wedding or this party AT ALL.
I get her response, and this is when the #WTF starts rolling in. “We’re bouncing around ideas and decided that we can go out for a drink [an hour away] and then head back to [my boyfriend who I’ve only been dating for 2 months’] house [a half hour away]. He’s got a sick backyard.” He’s got a sick backyard? I’m about to catch my 43,473,736th Rattata when I see that text flash across the top of my screen. WTF??
YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT NONE OF MY IDEAS ARE UP TO YOUR STANDARD FOR ASHLEY’S BACHELORETTE PARTY--THE PARTY THAT SHE WILL PROBABLY ONLY HAVE ONCE IN HER LIFE--and you want ALL OF US to go hang out in YOUR BOYFRIEND’S backyard?? Your boyfriend, whose name you didn’t even know when Ashley asked you to be her bridesmaid months ago? REALLY? You think that’s a better option than bar hopping in Philadelphia, skinny dipping and having beers on the beach, or exploring local wineries? Maybe I should repeat Rule Numero Uno: IT’S ALL ABOUT THE BRIDE. ALWAYS. AT ALL. FUCKING. TIMES.
I mean, Jesus Christ, even if you’re not a seasoned bridesmaid you must realize that the bachelorette party is primarily about getting away from your fiance/boyfriend/hubby/partner/slampiece/spouse and having a girls’ night out and getting plastered and never, ever repeating the happenings to said fiance/boyfriend/hubby/partner/slampiece/spouse. There are very few things that we get in life as sacred as the bachelorette party. FFS, Must I spell everything out for these children? Don’t make me get out my magic markers and start taping up signs.
It is during this very moment of the “bouncing around ideas” text that I realize why I was dubbed maid of honor. It’s not just because I’m truly Ashley’s best friend, but because I am THE BOSS. I didn’t think I’d have to tell a bridesmaid that this wedding and this party wasn’t about her, but fine, I will be the one who makes sure she gets the memo and I will keep this party focused and in line. My maid of honor confidence has been restored because I was born to be bossy, and in this case, I have the bride’s blessing to back me up. Now, I’m sure having your very first boyfriend is very exciting, but I think you can lay off for one night and focus on the wants and needs of someone else, especially when that person happens to be the bride and also one of your best friends. K, thanks.