Our bride was meticulous in her planning. We had several meetings on how things would go. We discussed color in depth and carried color swatches out into the sun to make sure they were still the same color. The rehearsal was carried out with military precision and the ‘to do’ lists were distributed to each bridesmaid and groomsman after the rehearsal with stern words on how they were to be carried out. Don’t get me wrong, the bride was not a bridezilla on any level. She knew what she wanted and delegated with the efficiency of upper management. She was very sweet to work with and had a handle on everything.
Fast forward to her wedding day…. Bridesmaids arrive and immediately jump into the functions of getting dressed in the bride’s room. The groomsmen arrive, diligently sporting the items they were enlisted to provide. The musicians, minister, photographer, etc. were all filing in at their designated times. As the coordinator, I was keeping my finger on the multiple pulses going on around the property. But the one heartbeat missing was the bride’s. Without sounding any alarms, I would casually ask the bridesmaids if anyone had heard from her. No. I asked the groomsmen if everything was going okay. Yes. The bride’s parents arrived. No bride. I asked if they knew where she was. No.
The buzz of the day continued moving on and getting louder with every passing minute. Once again, I started the rounds of asking if anyone had heard from her. I called her cell phone. No answer. Now I’m starting to wonder if she’s coming at all. And if not, why? Did she run? Did something terrible happen? Should I sound the alarms?
The wedding start time was approaching quickly. The clock ticked louder and louder in my head, yet nobody seemed alarmed at all that the bride was nowhere to be found.
It’s 6pm. Start time. Now we’re at critical mass. I’m standing in the main room wondering what my next move is… Do I go to the groom and tell him his bride isn’t here? Do I ask the bridesmaids one more time to call her? Do I put her mother into a panic by suggesting that something might be wrong? Then something moved out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head towards it. I bent down to get a better look out of the front window. There it was. A big yellow taxi. And a VERY mad bride.
Before I could formulate a sentence, she barreled through the door, two fists full of wedding gown and said, “Let’s do this before I change my mind.” I do not exaggerate when I tell you she flew out of the taxi and directly down the aisle.
I’m stunned beyond words. What the heck just happened? Had I crossed into the Twilight Zone? As it turns out, she hadn’t added “get the bride to the venue” on anyone’s list. Therefore, nobody did. Problem was, the list had things like ‘pick up car, take to hotel’, ‘cell phones are off limits’ and other similar ‘dos & don’ts’. The car had been picked up and dropped off at the hotel. And the cell phones had been promptly turned off when they arrived at the venue – rendering the bride’s calls for help completely useless. No car. No phone. No clue what to do next. Next idea? Call a taxi. Then wait. Now… who gets to be mad at whom? I don’t think there’s a flowchart for that one.
Lists… they can be good for keeping order and useful tools. They can also turn the best of intentions into the worst of outcomes. Use them wisely.
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