Here comes the bride.....

On Saturday night, shortly after helping my Carpet People Seeing beloved to bed, I got to try on my first wedding dress. Liz has been married and we were talking it so only naturally after drinking copious amounts of champagne and smoking the odd doobie, we decided I should try it on.

I'm really terrified of marriage, I can buy a house with a man, I can think about having a baby with a man (ok, after being told to by a person of medical knowledge), but marriage? That to me seems to represent the end of anything fun and carefree and interesting, it just doesn't appeal. So imagine my surprise when I was almost moved to tears by how it felt to be wearing one, it was awesome, even the very weight of the dress hanging off me (and for 'hanging off' read straining at the seams because I am bigger than the person for whom the dress was made, I'm surprised she didn't rip it off me screaming 'stop! you're hurting it!') it had a train and it SWISHED and for those few minutes I was like a princess. It was very special.

What was less special was getting locked in the room the dress was in and having to jump, barefoot, out of the window and attempt to get the Vomiting Carpet People See-er to awaken from his comatose state and open the front door for us. As Gareth said the next morning, it's not like we had to jump 50 feet from a burning building, and the room was, in fact, on the ground floor, but still! There were rose bushes and stones and you never know, the ground could have given way beneath my wedding dress bursting form and revealed some long abandoned mine shaft or something..... my God! If people live in Liz's carpet, who knows what else is hanging around....

And what was even less special was the rudeness of the man at Wetherspoons who wouldn't let us take the last bottle of Champagne home with us, even though we had bought it, and even though it was full. We called the manager but realised we were screwed when a miserable shrew woman came over and started saying the words no, no and no. The rude man offered to teach me the difference between an ONlicense and a OFFlicense so I tried to shoot him my best 'If your balls were in my hands I would be crushing them so fuck off and take you £3.50 an hour arse with you' but as I have said, there were 3 bottles of champagne already emptied so I probably just came across as a mong-eyed drunk who was about to go home, put a wedding dress on and fall out of a window......