The Story of the Dress

Today is my 8th wedding anniversary.  What a whirlwind 8 years it has been!  The very best decision I ever made was to marry my sweet husband, and I am grateful every day that I did - even when I am closing cabinet doors in the kitchen that he has left open, or picking up socks from the living room.  

Our wedding day was a sunny day, much like today.  The night before while we were at dinner with the parents, my sister had gone to the dry cleaner to pick up my dress.  All over the tag they had written "PRESS ONLY", and yet, when she arrived, she found out they had sent it to be WASHED.  It had never been worn, obviously, and was a custom dress (try finding a modest dress in Virginia that they can alter in less than 7 months).  I was freaked out, so my mom and I headed to the mall to find a replacement just in case.  We managed to find one, and they put it on hold for us.  The replacement dress was $700, so my first choice was obviously NOT to go that route.

My cousins had planned a breakfast shower for me the morning of my wedding that involved many of my extended family.  They had gone all out, but, of course I had to be at the dry cleaner the second they opened.  Dave drove down to be supportive, and we grabbed my friend Cheryl (who should have been a lawyer) to go with us.  When we arrived, my wedding dress was still slightly damp (this was at 10am, the wedding was scheduled for 2pm and we had to be at the temple at 1pm) and there I was in a dirty dry cleaning shop on my wedding day trying on my damp dress INSTEAD OF ENJOYING BREAKFAST WITH MY FAMILY.
  
They had also somehow burned part of the plastic dress protector onto one of the stripes of satin.  

Cheryl got the manager on the phone, who didn't even come down to try to handle the situation.  Even though the instructions said PRESS ONLY, he made all sorts of excuses.  Cheryl handled it quite deftly and told him in no uncertain terms to get his hiney down to his store and make amends.  He hung up on her, but the phone didn't actually hang up and she heard him explaining to his wife what had happened.  She urged him to come down to the shop.  By that point I knew that the dress was wearable at least, and that I had to get back to the hotel to get ready to go.  My eyes were red from crying and believe it or not, Dave still married me that day!

A couple of weeks later the store owner called (after I threatened to sue him for the cost of the dress) and offered to not only send me money, but "preserve" my dress.  It was laughable at best.  I told him that no matter how much he paid me, I would never get back the morning of my wedding day and the time I was supposed to be spending with my family.  

Now it just makes an entertaining story, and we laugh about it sometimes.  By the way, I wouldn't recommend the dry cleaners next to the old Albertson's across from Movies 8 in Provo.  Just saying.