The Perils of a Prix Fixes Wedding

This is a blog post that when I look back on it in a couple of years, I will die of embarrassment. It's a cautionary tale. Here are the facts: I have a really, really beautiful home. The grounds are interesting and chock full of pots heaping with flowers. The house is on a nice quiet lane and set back from the road. It's lovely.

Over the years, several friends and family members have held weddings and special occasion events here. All beautiful. All successful.

During the financial crisis and economic downturn (or, as those of us in construction say ~ the depression), I decided to use all my skills and make every aspect of my life a "profit center." Uck, buzz words! Loathe them! I put them all in the category of thoroughly stupid phrases that are designed to make you seem smart, but, generally make you sound like an idiot, i.e., "mission statement," "way finding," "on message," "at the end of the day," "impact," "in my thoughts and prayers," etc. But, I digress . . .

So, I posted my ad on our local Craigslist:

Don't let Wall Street put the damper on your wedding plans. What you need, you cutie pies you, is a beautiful, romantic wedding for not much money. Impossible you say? Come with me. I found just the place.

Columns on the Park is a deluxe Bellevue B&B with an Italian sensibility. Columns has put together an amazing wedding package for your small weddings ~ say around 20 people. Your hostess is an award winning interior designer so, yes, she's got the china, silver and the touch to make everything beautiful for your special day. And, best of all, her studio is in a Tuscan Villa. And, I'm not kidding.

Sure you could have your wedding in chambers, but, for $####, you get a wedding in a drop dead gorgeous garden, a keepsake garter, dozens of photos of your wedding, a true wedding cake, a complimentary bottle of Italian champagne, two keepsake champagne flutes, the perfect music, and a coffee, tea, punch reception with china plates and linen napkins.

Oh, the adventures that begin with "Yes." Did I mention the garden in the spring? Book now!

What happened, you might ask? Was it successful? Were you able to turn your skills into a "profit center?" Well, yes. . . and, no.

Having worked my way through college working retail, nothing much surprises me about working with the public. First, there were the calls wanting to know if they could have 50 people. What about 75? Sheesh, what part of 20ish wasn't clear? Those calls were followed by "was there a room for the bridal party to dress?" My first thought was "what part of 'in chambers' sounded like dressing rooms were involved?" Could they bring their hairdresser? Nail artist? Could they come the night before to set-up?

Yes, there are speakers in the garden. Yes, I have lovely wedding music. Sure, I will put your wedding mix tape on. No, I can't time it to sync up with the instant you finish your vows. 

Yes, I provide three cake flavours. Yellow, white and chocolate. No, they are not gluten-free. No, there is no "tasting."

Mostly, it went well. But, occasionally, when my life reads like a story problem, things happened. And, not good things.

Like the time . . .

I'd had back-to-back weddings and there was a lot of clean-up, tidy-up, prepare for the second wedding to do. I'd finished one cake, cleaned up the house, pressure washed the stone, blew off the driveway, dead headed the roses, emptied the trash, washed the napkins, ironed the napkins, started the dishwasher, started the second cake, set the timer and, just closed my eyes for a second . . . and sat straight up in bed!

Oh, my God! What time is it?

Oh no! It's 2:30AM. The cake's been in the oven since 9:30.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

It's burned all the way down. No chance of scraping off the charred edges. It's dead! Utterly, absolutely dead!

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Get in the car. Speed to 24 hour grocery store. What the hell? What are all those police cars speeding past me in the parking lot with lights and sirens blazing? What are all those police officers doing leaping out of their cars with their guns drawn?

Shit! Shit! Shit!

My Safeway is being robbed! Oh, brother! My life really is a complete story problem! Nightmare!

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Find another 24 hour store ~ right the hell now. Thank God, I live in the suburbs. All the grocery stores can't be being robbed in the middle of the night.

And, home again by 5:00AM. Cake cooling on the counter by 6:30AM. Sigh.

I really must buy a lottery ticket.