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This is another bit from a different conversation Jack and Viv are having during one of their frequent coffeekvetch sessions, as they attempt to stay sane while trying to help plan their respective siblings’ idea of The Perfect Wedding.
But Viv has dreams of her own . . .
“So, what’s your dream wedding?” he asked.
“Two tickets to Vegas.”
“That’s it?” In Jack’s experience, all women expected at least a little special treatment on their Big Day—and by “little”, most of them meant “all of it”.
“Well,” Viv said, lifting her mug, “two first class tickets.”
“Hold on there, Rockefeller.”
“Hey, my sister dropped two thousand dollars on a dress she’s going to wear once and over seven-fifty on cake—at least the tickets would be round trip.”
“Fair enough.”
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My wedding was somewhere between Kirsten’s dream and Viv’s—with a lower budget—but when I was a kid, I never dreamed much past the cake, anyway.
That actually explains a lot . . .
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Image courtesy of InSapphoWeTrust, under Creative Commons license, found via Wikimedia Commons.
Earful of Cider 