I was a bridesmaid at a friend's wedding who basically used her bridal party as slave labor. It all culminated on the day of the wedding, when she discovered that the dainty wooden fans to be placed on the chairs of the 160 guests had 'Made in China' stickers.She screamed and cried until all three bridesmaids were down on our knees, going chair to chair scraping off stickers. I spent the wedding sucking tiny splinters out of my fingertips and nursing my broken hands.—Anonymous
Weddings are beautiful, rare occasions that bring people together and bind them forever and remind you how very, extremely fucking single you are. When my BFFL got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor, I had a serious boyfriend, so I could be genuinely happy for her. I was so happy that I almost cried, and I only cry when I'm drunk. Four months before her wedding, I got dumped while I was in the shower. I went to her wedding stag, still mourning my breakup.The night before the wedding, halfway through the rehearsal dinner, my BFFL waited until I had been placated with cake, then said, "Hey, soooo we have an uneven number of bridesmaids and groomsmen, so you're gonna have to walk down the aisle first, by yourself."The next morning, the bridal party went straight into beauty mode. We were given mimosas while we endured having bobby pins shoved into our scalps. We were given more mimosas as we did our makeup. Then we were shuttled to the wedding venue, where we were given glasses of champagne to toast and sip while we got dressed. As my BFFL put her wedding dress on and adjusted her veil, I felt something happen: I was starting to cry. I only cry when I'm drunk.Fifteen minutes later, I stared down the long slope of the grassy hill I'd have to walk down, by myself, drunk. I tried to remember this wasn't my moment, so if I ate it, no big deal. Three steps in, I tripped. Another three in, I tripped again. The entire walk was a series of small trips, but miraculously, I didn't eat it. Later at the reception, an exceptionally cute groomsman walked up to me and said, 'So glad you made it down the aisle, buddy! We were all holding our breath a little there!' Then he clapped me on the shoulder and walked away.—Keely Flaherty
"You know how in The Hangover Ed Helms loses a tooth and can't remember how? That's kind of what happened to me at my friend's bachelorette weekend in Palm Springs. Except I remember exactly how it happened.We decided to make the first night super low key. So we went to dinner, and came back to our hotel room where we proceeded to drink a significant amount and dance to Robyn. Mid-dance, the bride-to-be grabbed my face, tilted my head up, and proceeded to try and pour champagne straight from the bottle and into my mouth. Unfortunately, I was too drunk to quickly respond, and began to cough uncontrollably until champagne came out of my nose. The next morning I woke up with a hangover, looked in the mirror and saw that half of my eyeball was blood red. I'd coughed on champagne so hard that I'd popped a blood vessel in my eye. I got the nickname Eyester (eye monster) for the weekend. I've never been prouder of any injury as much as I am this one.—Erin La Rosa
My friends Josh and Danielle have been together since they were in high school, and they were the first friends I'd ever made in college. They're from a town in Indiana called New Palestine, which is rumored to be super racist. Like, the KKK donated the land for the high school and their official mascot is The Dragons. Anyway, I went to New Pal for the wedding rehearsal and stood with all the other bridesmaids. There was a large plant near me and the pastor assured me it wouldn't be there during the wedding: 'We can't have you standing there on the big day looking like a jungle...uh...cat.' The entire wedding party went silent and wide-eyed. The pastor coughed and continued telling everyone what the next day would look like. I started laughing. I laughed so hard, I had to hide my face in the plant. The situation was so absurd and I just couldn't handle it. —Ashley Ford
At my best friend's wedding, where I was serving as maid of honor, I bent over and popped the zipper open on my dress just before the ceremony started. Consequently, I had to be sewn back in.—Morgan Shanahan
I once went to a bridal shower where the male stripper, who was quite skinny and almost pre-pubescent looking, showed up late, looking a little sad. That, I'm sure, is not unusual. He played his music, and spun his hips, and took off his clothes. He was in every way professional — lewd without being sexy. Then, after he did his act, the stripper asked for a vodka drink. This was not in the contract, and was explicitly prohibited. But the bridal party was generous and a little titillated, so they made him a stiff drink. He sat down on the flowered couches between two of the bridesmaids and promptly began to sob. His life, he explained, had not turned out the way he liked. He didn't like stripping. He wanted a girlfriend. Intimacy. But he didn't know how to find it. And every time he took his clothes off for a group of drunk women, which he did with some frequency, because it was his job, the emptiness welled up inside him. The bridal party was initially sympathetic. They offered relationship tips. They gave him more to drink. He got drunker. He kept sobbing. Finally, the maid of honor had enough, and eased the stripper out into the night. The bridesmaids tried to go back to their drunken merriment, but the stripper's despair had filled the room. Everyone went to bed, and woke up hungover.—Anonymous
I'm a bridesmaid for a wedding in October, and the bride asked me to plan the bachelorette party. We chose Catalina Island, and had a great weekend. But the problem with having a bachelorette party on Catalina Island is you have to take a hungover boat ride back to the mainland when it's all over. After having a large breakfast (remember this detail later), we all boarded the boat back to the mainland. Everyone fell asleep while I took funny pictures of them, but when we were about 15 minutes away from the dock, the bride woke up and was not feeling well. The second the boat stopped, she got up urgently, and told us she thought she was going to be sick. There were already dozens of people standing on the dock with luggage. We weaved through them and about two feet from the ocean, the bride stopped. She pulled her shirt out and around her face, and starting puking. "STEPH!," I screamed, "What are you doing?" But it was too late. She was literally covered in her own puke. We stood there just laughing, guarding the pile of puke on the floor, until finally one of the other bridesmaids came out with her luggage. We dug through her suitcase and found her a new shirt, and then she undressed right there on the dock and put on a new outfit. We threw her old clothes away. —Maycie Thornton