Flowers...

Today I had the day off because I’m officially “transitioning” into a new position at work. There is much to be said about that, but I’ll save that for another day.

We took advantage of the fact that I didn’t have to work and Kristin could get away since school is out, and we went to pick out our flowers for the wedding.

First of all, a little history. We had decided awhile ago to do our own flowers. Heather, a bridesmaid, had experience and had offered to help, and it didn’t really look too difficult. Then we started looking for a place to get the flowers. We had a tough time finding an affordable place to buy roses. We talked more about it and realized we wouldn’t really be able to make the bouquets until the day before the wedding. We decided that the extra price it would cost to have them done for us would be worth the time and stress it would save us. So we started researching florists online.

We came across a small floral shop in Saint Paul called Payne’s Floral. We called and set up an appointment.

We didn’t really plan ahead all that well as to how we were going to break the news to the head designer that there would be two brides and no grooms – big mistake.

As soon as we went in she asked “and who is the bride?” Kristin and I just looked at each other as if to say “who’s going to be the one this time?” before Kristin said “both of us.” Her face lit up and she asked “is this a double wedding?” Again, we glanced at each other for a moment before I said “yes!”

Oy vey. Why do I do these things? Immediately she started talking a million miles an hour about how she had never done a double wedding, and this was going to be soooo exciting with TWO brides!

I probably could have clarified a bit at that moment, explained that it wasn’t really a double wedding as she was thinking of it, and we could have gone on with the planning. But no. I just smiled and pretended that this was really the best moment of my life while Kristin sat down on her stool looking like she wanted to cut my tongue out.

And so the planning began. First, the designer asked us all about the colors and the dresses and the bridesmaids. She asked what we were thinking about for the flowers and I told her we wanted roses. Lots and lots of roses. We talked about colors and styles and looked at the various choices of greenery to accent the bouquets. We talked about the bridesmaid bouquets and how they would differ from the bridal ones.

And then we got to the grooms and groomsmen. At this point it was too late to correct the situation. The designer wanted to know if there would be four groomsmen. “Um, yeah,” Kristin mumbled. She talked about how she would make the boutonnières for them – the flowers she would use, etc. We just smiled and assured her that whatever she thought would look best would be fine by us.

She finished up, gave us a grand total, we paid our deposit, and then ran for the door.

Kristin was not happy with me. At all. She wanted to know why I had quickly said it was a double wedding. Why I hadn’t thought of a way to tell her? I hadn’t planned it out. And when faced with the moment of unplanned awkwardness, I folded.

This whole planning process has really been a test of our “outness” which, before this whole thing neither Kristin nor I were very good at. We have both commented at various times about the awkwardness of having to tell complete strangers that we’re gay. Neither of us are the type to flaunt our gayness to the entire world. I have always figured that straight people don’t go around saying “I’m straight! I’m straight! Look at me!” so why should I go around shouting the opposite?

I mean, come on, could you imagine going in to some random place – like a shoe store, for example – and saying “yes, I would like to try this shoe in a size 8 and by the way, I’m straight . . . you’re okay with that, right?” Then going to a restaurant and saying “I’m a heterosexual, will you still serve me?” Then heading to the movies and having to explain to the ticket salesman that you sleep with someone of the opposite sex and hoping that they will just give you your ticket without making a big deal out of it or denying you entry.

With every vendor we’ve dealt with we’ve had to face telling them about our personal lives and hoping they won’t judge us unfairly because of it. Some people will say “who cares what they think? Just tell them! If they don’t want to serve you it’ll be their loss!” Sometimes, unfortunately, it just isn’t that easy (possibly a subject of another post?).

Granted, some things have been easier than others – the DJ and the reception place were relatively painless, for example. It just kind of flowed into the conversation or emails to say, “oh, by the way, this is a lesbian wedding – just wanted to make sure you were okay with that.” Other things, like the dresses and the flowers have been a little more delicate and difficult.

But I ask – why does everyone have to know? Does it really matter if the floral designer knows that we will be marrying each other? She won’t be there, so why should we have to tell her? And of course, the answer is that we don’t.

I guess that just leaves one question:

Does anyone need six boutonnières on or around July 27?