Bridesmaid’s Luncheon -- in Roswell at Mitty’s Tea Room.
We had tea and lunch. We had lots of lunch -- and I ate it all. Mitty’s puts on a spread --- quiche, croissant stuffed with blue cheese chicken salad, chocolate muffin, fruit, and, of course, four kinds of hot tea. It’s always about the food -- and the food was delicious. I ate it all including the garnish.
My niece married a young man from Germany, and his family, of course, came all this way to the wedding.
The mom, sister, and aunt were at the Bridesmaid’s Luncheon. The mom and sister speak pretty good English, but the aunt not so much, even though she spent some time in Richmond, Virginia, twenty five years ago, of which she remembered quite a bit about -- it was lovely to hear her say “Richemom.”
At the bridesmaid luncheon, I sat across from the aunt and next to the sister.
We were each given a party favor -- a bag with an antique cup and saucer and wine coasters. This particular American custom needed to be explained to the Germans. Needless to say, I don’t explain well. How do you explain a party favor?
Aunt: What is party favor?
Me: It’s a gift given to you by the host. It’s a gift of appreciation to you for joining and celebrating the party at hand.
Aunt: Party at hand?
Me: The current party.
Me: Bottom line -- it’s a reason to shop.
Aunt: A reason?
Me: An excuse to spend money.
Aunt: I see.
Me: Do you?
Me: *shrugs* Just take it -- it’s yours -- it’s a memento, a souvenir, a remembrance of her wedding.
Me: It’s better than a t-shirt.
Aunt: I need a shirt?
Seriously, I was lousy at this -- my sister-in-law was much better at explaining things. I felt like a pretty lousy teacher at this point -- I couldn’t explain a party favor? To think I spent all those years trying to explain Faulkner and Hardy. No wonder the kids were always puzzled.
Later, I asked the sister about speaking English.
Sister: It’s like talking with a potato in your mouth.
Is that because we have so many long a’s?
My conclusion -- I spent thirty three years explaining literature with a potato in my mouth.
Next was the rehearsal dinner at Six Feet Under on 11th Street in Atlanta.
My niece’s rehearsal dinner was not typical sit down dinner at a fancy restaurant.
David and I were the first to arrive. We were met at the front by Hank who took us up a narrow flight of stairs to the deck on the top of the restaurant -- and we were shown where our section was. We had these ten tables, each with its own umbrella.
Me: We’re up here?
David: Get me a beer.
To the left of us was the skyline of Atlanta .
To the left front a windmill.
Brother:[nods at windmill] Tax credit.
To the right a cell tower.
Brother: Look.[holds up cell phone] Six bars.
The roof gave us the advantage of watching the other guests arrive. As they exited their cars, we “halloed” at them ,and puzzled, they looked up to see us waving from the roof.
So, that was the tone --- festive and casual with much mingling about-- no stuffy formal affair at all.
We sat up on the rooftop of a restaurant named for having its original business next to Oakland Cemetery. Grim? Not at all -- funny.. or it was to me...
The party was for about fifty people -- so we yakked it up, drank wine and beer, and ate fish tacos, fried shrimp, chicken fingers, salad, coleslaw, baked gourmet potato chips, and jalapeño poppers. All of this topped off with brownies made by the caterer who made the wedding cake. Yum.
As the sun set, the view of Atlanta was breathtaking -- the sun bounced off the towers, the conversation got louder, and the laughter more raucous.
David asked the groom’s father if he was getting good shots of Atlanta on his camera.
Groom’s Dad: Shots?
David: Yes of Atlanta.
Groom’s Dad: Atlanta? Shots? Help?
David: Photos -- taking shots -- the pictures……… we call them shots because each individual picture is quick like a shot….so…..
It was David’s turn to interpret ---- and he also thought he was deaf. LOL.
I blame it on the potato in his mouth.
We checked out at 10...and the bachelors and the bachelorettes were headed elsewhere…and the highlight of that story is that one of the groom’s brothers got separated from the others and spent the night in a parking lot in downtown Atlanta in his brother’s car.
That’s all I know -- and all I need to know.
The bride and her friend, Sarah, at Six Feet Under.