Adventures at the Bridal Show
Continued (page 2 of 3)
And then, out of nowhere, a pass to a bridal show showed up in my inbox. I'd never been to one before, and the timing was perfect. Best of all, it was happening at the Universal Sheraton. If I got bored, I could walk over to Universal Studios and get a churro. So really, I had nothing to lose.
As soon as I opened the glass doors, I knew it was going to be a long afternoon. A wave of old-lady perfume and harp music assaulted me, as did an unnaturally peach-colored woman with a flyer for an airbrush makeover. And while I waited to register, no fewer than three people told me there was free cake, with an excitement usually reserved for organ transplant recipients.
After getting my wristband, I went into the ballroom. And the first thing I saw was a tableful of vibrators. I have to admit, I don't understand selling masturbation to brides. Theoretically, that's a job you don't have to do anymore, like taking out the trash or changing a tire.
"And while I waited to register, no fewer than three people told me there was free cake, with an excitement usually reserved for organ transplant recipients."
But more than that, the whole "naughty" aspect of bachelorette parties seems so archaic. Let's face it, most of us have seen a penis before, so giggling behind our hands at a vibrator is such vaudeville. And even if you were that rare virgin bride, I think coming face to face with a giant, purple phallus at a bridal show would make you want to lock yourself in your room and push the dresser against the door.
Next came a more curious group of exhibitors: people with no connection to the wedding industry, but are piggybacking on the traffic (or maybe just looking for free cake). These vendors included a roofing company, a rooter service, and a water-purification display, because, well brides drink water.
Rounding the corner, I finally found something worth stopping for: the chocolate fountain. As I sat there, gorging on free chocolate-covered strawberries, I realized that I was surrounded by starving models in bridal gowns staring at me with resentment. I put my feet up on a Pilates display and finished my marshmallows.
Then it was on to one of the highlights of the day—a vendor promising the Most Creative Weddings on Earth. The owner of the business was an elderly minister who rents out his own tables and chairs. "You see this?" he asked, pointing to a photo of some Hawaiian-themed plastic decor. "I own that setup."
- April Winchell