Everything's Bigger in Texas | Teen Ink

Everything's Bigger in Texas

April 26, 2017
By AnnieSneed BRONZE, Eugene, Oregon
AnnieSneed BRONZE, Eugene, Oregon
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

“I want light pink and white peonies as my centerpieces, a rustic styled wedding cake with buttercream horizontal lines, the bridesmaids and the groomsmen matching in Champagne Cream accents, as well as the ceremony set in a rustic country barn.”
Cassidy Monroe was the definition of a bridezilla. She wanted it her way or the highway. Lucky for her, I was the best wedding planner in the city of Dallas.
“As for the invitations, I suggest a classic white card, bronze border, ribbon tied around, with a white spray rose as an extra touch?” Cassidy pondered the thought in her head.
“That’s a lovely idea, I would like that.” I smile contently at her, waiting for her to bring up yet another order I would have to complete by her special day.
Instead she says, “Well alright then, I have my dress fitting at Monet’s in an hour so I should get going.” I look down at my silver rolex to check the time.
“Perfect, I’ll see you next Monday for the cake testing!” Cassidy smiles, removing herself from the bar stool to shake my hand, “Thank you for everything Bella, you’re the best!” ‘Indeed I was’, I thought. Her perfect curled blonde hair whips around as she opens the cafe door, strutting down the sidewalk to her silver Range Rover. I close my binders, and put them in my leather tote bag.
As I walk out of David’s Espresso, my favorite barista shakes her head. “Another day of planning?” She asks. “Someone has to make these brides have the best day of their life, and that happens to be me.” I sigh. She chuckles, “Stop working so hard!” I laugh, as if that’s even an option. I walk out of the shop and the hot breeze hits me.
My favorite feeling in the world is when I arrive back to my apartment after a long day of work. I shuffle the keys out of my purse and open the door, my persian cat is waiting for me on the cream couch.
“Hey Pinecone”, pinecone rolls over on his back. I set my keys and purse down on the glass table up against the wall. I walk over to the marbled kitchen and pour myself a glass of the amber liquid my friend brought me as a welcome home present. I make my way to the living room and sit down next to Pinecone. I scroll through my iPhone; fifteen missed texts, three phone calls, and eleven emails. I take a deep breath and begin the process of getting back to all my acquaintances. Well, I guess I wasn’t staying in tonight. What a selfish thought, of course I couldn’t have night to myself.
This is the life I signed up for, social job, social life. I reply to my best friend Louie,
“Yes, I’ll meet you all at The Woolworth at eight!” I smiled as I typed out the text, hoping my mood would change to more positive. I couldn’t tell you the last time I had taken a weekend off to myself. Well sure, it’s not like I’m actually working on my off days, but sometimes being social feels like work. I have to find a way to fit in all my different friends, from all different groups into two nights. My Friday’s and Saturday’s spent staying at home reading a book with a glass of Malbec were long gone.
I spend my last couple hours of freedom before I have to get dressed up taking a power nap on my couch. As my alarm rings, I look out the large windows that fill up the white walls and stare out at the tall buildings. I make my way towards my bedroom and slip into something simple but classy. I collect my purse and make my way down to the parking garage.
I stroll into the bar and immediately see my best friend Louie decked out in a pastel pink Polo suit, along with the rest of our friends.
“You never fail to fly under the radar do you?” I say. Louie gasps, and straightens out his suit.
“What's the point of living if you’re not going to make a grand appearance darling?” I nod in agreement and say hi to the rest of our friends. The night is spent drinking fruity c***tails and discussing summer plans. I say my goodbyes and walk out of the bar to my black Escalade. As I drive home I can’t help but think of my old life back in Seattle.


The author's comments:

I've always loved weddings, so I decided to write about an overworking wedding planner.


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