And it don't stop!

My search for a wedding dress continues! After going to several bridal salons and asking them if they had anything "less bridal," I decided to just stop shopping for bridal gowns and start shopping for evening gowns. I typed in "evening gowns" into my cell phone navigation system, and off I went from store to store. Store #1, some gowns came close, but no cigar. Store #2 smelled like cigarettes, nursing home perfume, and spearmint gum. Definitely not.

I walked into the third store. Seemed nice enough. Chandelier. Fancy wallpaper. 2 points for store #3. The front desk guy asked if he could help me. 2 more points. I told him what I was looking for, and he said someone would be right with me. Another 2 points. He offered me his DJ services. Very nice. One-stop-shop. Another 2 points. All the while, he was awkwardly being wired up with some ankle device. I assumed he was on some sort of house arrest and continued to browse the racks. "My family has a reality show," he said, "Jersey Couture. It's on Oxygen. Oprah owns it." Sweet Jesus. Really? Minus 100 points.

"Ah, never heard of it," I replied, which gave me great pleasure. What had I gotten myself into? I reluctantly had a seat and waited my turn.

I finally got called into the back and saw that they were filming. Swell, I thought. This may take a while. I just wanted to breeze in and breeze out. When I shop, I'm kind of like a lioness stalking prey. My eyes are like Las Vegas surveillance cameras scanning for criminals, but unfortunately they weren't having any luck.

I showed the sales girl who was helping me a few pictures of something I'd be interested in, and it soon became apparent I had come to the wrong place. She brought back a few of the simplest gowns she could find, but nothing I would be interested in. Had I seen the show, I would have known that they're totally Jersey, and my dumb ass was in there asking for "something with no bedazzles!" Ha!

Defeated, my sales girl turns to another employee and says, "Do we have any simple white gowns?" She turns to me and says, "Simple? Since when do we do simple? Haventcha had ya cawfee taday?"

In California, a bitch would choke you for that, but since everyone in the service industry seems to speak to people that way here, I'm starting to get used to it. Water off a duck's back, as they say. If you're looking for cordiality, New Jersey is not the place. "Yeah. Wrong store," I said and walked out.

Later I told my MIL-to-be (a long time NJ resident) about the experience, and she filled me in on the dress shop and the show. Boy, had I happened upon the wrong place! Between this and my recent afternoon spent a la Brownstone, these reality TV adventures are keeping me busy. Maybe I shall venture to Carlo's Bake Shop in Hoboken to complete the holy trinity. When people ask me what my wedding theme is, clearly it's New Jersey reality television. Bada bing!