Choosing the bridesmaids is always fraught with drama.  As if brides don't have enough drama to deal with - can't sit people at the same table if that hate or have divorced each other; can't choose a date that reminds anyone of anything; can't please everyone even though you need to try. 

This bride is an old dear friend of mine.  When I say "old" I mean that 25 years ago we were both in "The Lodge."  There were four of us Lodge members and we'd get together every Thursday to drink wine and solve the world's problems.  Of course, by the time we sobered up the next day we would have forgotten our brilliant ideas and the world would carry on without benefit of our world solutions.

At the age of 51, she got engaged to a man she had dated for 12, or more, years.  For the key bridal - party positions: best man, bridesmaid, and to walk her down the aisle - she chose the groom's teen-aged nephew and two nieces.  Sweet.

The three non bridesmaids sat around ruminating the arrangements.  There was some wine involved, I'll admit.  We discussed the fact that she had been a bridesmaid at two of our weddings.  We laughed about the behind-the-scene ploys as she took part in our theme weddings and those of others.

For the cow - themed wedding, isn't she the one that sewed the priest's vestments with cow patches on the back - complete with a rope tail, ending in a cow bell?  For the April Fool's Day wedding, didn't she bring in the bowling balls to roll around the dance floor?  At my wedding, didn't she decorate the wine carrier that the groom offered as bribery to the Lodge for their agreement to let this wedding ceremony continue?

Does she really think of us merely as guests at her wedding? Wouldn't she be disappointed if we merely sat there, clinking the occasional wine glass?

The bridal shower was this past weekend.  Mere guests would have sat back and watched the teen-aged bridesmaid pout and sit aloof as the bride, alone, handled the job of opening the presents.  We offered to help as we noticed three chairs being placed near the presents. The bride gave us a stern look of disapproval and chased us away.  We sat down like the mere guests that she wanted us to be.  She sat.  The groom sat next to her. The third chair was empty as the pouting bridesmaid picked at her cheesecake dessert.

The bride stood up, picked a decorated box from the over-flowing table of presents, carried the box to her chair, sat down, ripped off the wrapping paper letting it fall to the ground covering her feet.  She attempted to open the taped box with her perfectly manicured nails, to no avail.  She looked helpless and panicky, not at all like the radiant bride she hoped to be.

I walked from my guest table and offered the bride a pair of sharp scissors  and an envelope opener.  She took them gladly.  I walked to the table and picked the next present to bring to her.  The second Lodge member took the empty seat, opened the perfectly decorated notebook adorned with the bride's new last name initial and began to write the name of the gift giver and the present.  The third Lodge member got the staff to bring out more chairs and some trash bags, picked up the tossed wrapping paper, gave the plastic bag to the Maid of Teens and then began the job of stacking up the opened presents.

One of the last presents to be opened was signed from "The Real Bridesmaids."  As we left the bridal couple alone at the front of the room with only the gifts of currency, we received a round of applause from the room.

Just wait until the wedding.  This was just the introduction of "The Real Bridesmaids."