Fire is a girl’s best friend

I’m very happy to be marrying the man of my dreams, but the planning process has been less than perfect. It’s obvious that nobody gives a shit about this wedding except me. I know, I know, it’s my wedding, grow up, but I’m not asking for much. A shower, bachelorette, and for my mom and sister to go dress shopping with me, that’s it.

But the shower was a no go because my sister got pregnant, and my mom wanted to throw her a baby shower and said it’s gift grabby to have two showers spaced so close together. I’ve literally never heard of that. And then I had to plan my own bach because my maid of honor is a flaky immature little bitch. But I couldn’t get anybody to agree to anything, and nobody would answer my texts, and now I’m pretty much over it.

So many things have gone into the fuck-it bucket that if I gave any more ground, the whole wedding would be in there as well.

That was why I wouldn’t budge on wanting my mom and sister to go dress shopping with me. Anyway, after so much tears and pleading, I finally got everybody – sister, mom, stepmom, fmil and fsil – to agree on a date they could all come with me to the bridal salon. I was going to drive, pick everybody up, and pay for dinner afterwards. I honestly thought it would be so much fun.

Anyway, everybody canceled on me the morning of, and not only that, the reasons were so shitty: my fsil’s dog was sick, my sister had to go to her personal trainer’s birthday party, my mom said if sister isn’t going, then she isn’t going, stepmom had a migraine, and fmil didn’t respond to any of my texts even though she was updating on Facebook and Instagram all morning long.

So fuck me for wanting to be surrounded by women I love on one of the most important occasions of my life.

On top of all that, my aunt dropped off her daughter Tiffany in front of the house, and then…left. When my mom called her asking why her daughter is standing on our front lawn, my aunt said she and her boyfriend are going on vacation for a couple of days and didn’t want to leave Tiffany alone at their house.

Y’all, that’s some next level shit. My mom was this close to calling CPS on her bitch-sister. Anyway, so mom said I had to take Tiffany for the day because she can’t deal with this girl now, she was so mad at her still. The last time Tiffany came over, she burned all my mom’s shoes.

And that’s how I ended up going shopping for my wedding dress with my eleven year old psycho cousin.


Even before we got to the shop, Tiffany was throwing fit after fit. She was a total tomboy and hated dress shopping. She thought weddings were “dumb” and dresses were “retarded” and she wanted to “have fun.”

Alright, devil child, I thought. “You’re staying in the car,” I said offhandedly.

She grinned. “Okay.”

I instantly regretted my words. I could see it now, my car, or what would be left of its charred remains. Tiffany carried a cigarette lighter on her at all times, had done so since she was six. She didn’t smoke, she just liked fire, liked to watch things burn.

“Never mind,” I said, or pleaded more like. “If you behave, I’ll take you to the water park tomorrow,” I lied.

She looked out the window. “Whatever, man.”

The shop was by appointment only, so I had to press this buzzer for somebody to open the door. Nobody came, and I thought maybe the consultant had left. And then I saw a face peering out at me from the other side. I almost jumped. The door buzzed open and we went in.

It was just the bridal consultant, me and then Tiffany. The consultant didn’t seem to know what she was doing. I told her I wanted to see an A-line dress, and she gave me … a mermaid? I said I wanted something flowing, clingy, and she gave me … a ball gown. Finally, I decided to get the dresses myself, but she wouldn’t let me. So what happened was that she would pull twenty dresses – randomly, I swear – every time I asked for something, trusting that there would be something in there that I wanted.

For all that, she was very nice. Totally incompetent but so sweet. She helped me change into the dresses, calling me baby girl and telling me how pretty I was. I knew she was only trying to make a commission, but still it was nice that she made it sound like she meant it.

She was almost too nice. Like I had to ask her to leave the changing room every time I took off a dress because I forgot to wear a slip. And when she would help me to button up, I felt…I don’t know, kind of weird. Like her hands would almost seem to linger over my body?

But I told myself that she was just trying to help, and that I was the one being weird because I have a hard time accepting people being nice to me. Because seriously, she was so fucking nice, and after all the shit I been through with my family recently, I was grateful for the attention. She made me feel beautiful, like a princess.

When we came out of the changing room to take a break, Tiffany started whining that she was hungry. I had almost forgotten about her. I was surprised that she’d been quiet for this long. We must have been there for an hour or more.

“I’m not done yet,” I said.

“I don’t care,” said Tiffany. “I’m hungry.”

“If you decide on a dress today,” the consultant said, “I can give you fifty percent off.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You mean a sample?”

“All the dresses in the store. And I’ll throw in a free veil.”

I was speechless. She had to be joking. “Seriously?”

The consultant nodded, looking deeply into my eyes. “I don’t care about the money. I just want you to be happy.”

I felt a flush of embarrassment, and also the sharp thrill of pleasure. It had been so long since anybody looked at me like that, really looked at me I mean.

Tiffany screamed: “I’m hungry I’m hungry I’m hungry!!!!!”

God forgive me, but I wished at that moment the child would drop dead and leave me in peace. The consultant and I exchanged a glance, and my heart was beating like a drum.

I took Tiffany by the arm and half pushed, half dragged her into a corner.

“Hush,” I said to her. “I’m not going anywhere and neither are you so be quiet!”

And since the door was locked from the inside there was nothing she could do.

The consultant and I went back to the changing room. After about five minutes we smelled smoke. We ran out of the room and saw the pile of dresses at the back of the store ON FIRE. The smoke alarms were going off all around. Tiffany grabbed my arm and we ran out of there. The front door must have unlocked automatically when the alarms went off.

As soon as we left the store, Tiffany said, “Did you see the women behind all those dresses? They were lying there and bleeding and didn’t move. I think they’re dead. I found them when you were in the changing room.”

I didn’t have time to react to this before the fire trucks showed up and put out the fire. They caught the “consultant” trying to climb out a back window. Later, the police told me that the woman had killed the real bridal consultant and the receptionist just before Tiffany and I showed up for my appointment.


Tiffany and I went to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner, and the next day we went to the water park. We had a lot of fun.

And oh yeah, she’s going to be my (new) maid of honor. She’s quite excited about it, and have actually volunteered to help me with my centerpieces.

And the wedding dress? I’ve decided to just wear my old prom dress. I don’t think I have the nerve to step inside another bridal salon for a while yet. Anyway, who needs pretty dresses and all that superficial shit, right? The important thing is that I’ll be marrying my best friend with my best girl standing next to me, and that’s all that matters.

(source) story by (/u/substantial_eternal)

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