A Great Conversation Piece

On Tuesday, I met with a financial consultant at work to discuss my 401k plan. Before you knew it, the conversation on stocks and bonds had evolved into a chat about wedding flowers and cakes. Where are you getting married, she wanted to know. When? Then she went into some of her family's wedding day disasters. Once, the hair stylist assumed that a Friday wedding fell on Saturday, and when the miscommunication was uncovered (apparently late in the game), she was no longer available to twist hair and pin up barrettes. A replacement was quickly found and hired. In a similar story, a cousin's make up artist was a no show and the financial consultant herself (the one relaying the story to me) had to fill in. She was a self-claimed cosmetic novice but in the end, she rose to the challenge and applied the bride's eye shadow, mascara, and blush perfectly. Her point in telling me these stories was to ease nerves (hey, small things happen) and maybe give herself a pat on the back, but I left a little horrified, worrying that my cosmetician would bail and my hair would be a jumbled mess.
This story certainly does not stand alone. Ever since I became a bride-to-be, I have talked shop to complete strangers: traveller next to me on air planes, people in an professional development class I took, other future brides as we tried on wedding gowns, and even a waitress when I was asking for the bill (that was particularly awkward...I asked her opinion on the name of our burgeoning wedding web site, and she looked at me like I had lost my mind. Dan wanted to crawl under the dinner table). Yes, sometimes it's really helpful. My doctor, for one, recommended the band we're using, and the woman on the plane listed some bridal dress stores. In certain instances, it's just plain fun, watching strangers think back to their own nuptials before offering sweet tips. But other times, it's probably best to just give the waitress a tip, and keep her out of the wedding dialogue.