Home > Work > Dictatorship of the Dress (Much "I Do" About Nothing, #1)
1 " So. Food? My treat.” I touched my belly. It wasn’t exactly full, and neither was my wallet. I hoped my mom would take five minutes out of her prewedding bliss to remember to run payroll on time. “I don’t know. That yogurt really filled me up.” “Oh, bull. You totally had asparagus envy.” He had me there. “Sushi in the food court?” I could roll with that. "
― Jessica Topper , Dictatorship of the Dress (Much "I Do" About Nothing, #1)
2 " ...you should’ve seen me ready to shiv security for making me take my ring off earlier.” I frowned as I accidently lost control of my chopsticks, my California roll dropping into the little plastic cup of soy sauce. “See?Sounds like classic Bridezilla behavior to me.” She almost choked on her wasabi-laced sushi piece. “Bridezilla? I am the least likely person to turn Bridezilla you will ever meet. In fact, I am like the Mothra of the Bridezilla world.” “Mothra.” I tsked. “Pedestrian. Destoroyah—no, Bridestoroyah—could totally take on Bridezilla.” “You have the chopstick skill level of a preschooler, and you dare to go around citing Japanese monster movie characters to me?” Laney seethed. “I have my reasons for choosing Mothra.” “Yeah?” I stabbed my chopsticks straight through the middle of my errant sushi piece. “Let’s hear them.”“Don’t, it’s bad luck!” she exclaimed. “What, to talk to a bride about her wedding dress before the big day?” And I thought Sloane was taking the wedding superstitions too far. “No, to stab your chopstick through the middle of your food.” She reached across the table and readjusted my sticks for me with one hand. I noticed she kept her other hand on the garment bag riding shotgun in the chair next to her. Its midnight blue sheen and fancy silver embroidery looked out of place in the middle of the airport food court. "
3 " This ends now. You had no right to change the date without consulting me first.” “Enough with the dramatics. I get it. You don’t want to marry me in June. We’ll move it. Point made,” she snapped at me. “No, you don’t get it! I don’t want to marry you. Not in June. Not in July. Not two years from now. Not anytime.” I felt like I was reading from the Dr. Seuss book Laney had quoted to the little girl at Jughead’s Diner. Not in June, not on the moon, not in socks, not in a box. Never, never! “I’m done, Sloane.” There was a pause. Who was being dramatic now? “You can’t do this to me!” “Me, me, me!” I seethed. “Just because marriage starts with an m and ends with an e , it’s not all about you!” “Well, the word mistake does, too, but you can’t blame me for the one you’re making, mister. Just wait until my father—” My cab careened past Ruel’s and the other cars idling along the curb for departures and swung into the first free space. I had caught up with Laney. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Have a nice life, Sloane. "
4 " A traffic cop was monitoring the drop-off line, waving cars on if they stood too long. Dreadlock Guy got in his car to leave, but not before rolling down his passenger-side window and beckoning me over. “What you leave behind?” he wanted to know, his Jamaican accent lilting. “Wedding dress.” It came out barely above a whisper. “And his computer. And luggage.” He shook his head with a smile, his dreaded ponytail smacking each shoulder, back and forth. “Clothing is easily replaced. Computers, you can back up the data. Insurance covers what you lose.” I looked at him expectantly, figuring that at any moment, he’d utter “Don’t worry, be happy.” Say it and I’ll pull you out your car window by your dreads and put the hurt on you. “But a kiss like that , miss—” He clucked his tongue. “Irreplaceable. Don’t let that go the other way.” It took me a moment to process his last words, as they came out “gowdee otterway.” But as he put the car in reverse and backed up in order to swing around the shuttle parked infront of him, it sank in. "
5 " I’m in another time zoneI’m zoned out I’m shut in.My mind is reeling I wish it’d shut up What I’m feeling, I wanna shut down. All I have to do is Forget you Not say your name Not take your call It should be easy to Hate you ’CuzAll you had to do was, All you had to do was tell me After all.It’s not fair It ain’t right I still want to hold you through the night Want you to whisper all the things you never told me In my ear Now all you have to do is Forgive me Say my name Will you take my call It should be easy to break me ’Cuz All you ever did was love me After all. "
6 " As much as I hated flying, I hated the anticipation of flying more. And all the waiting around was making me squirrelly. One and a half hours already shot. Couldn’t we just drive there at six hundred miles per hour? We can send a man to the moon, but no one has figured out how to build one long runway across the country? Gas up the plane and just drive that sucker. So it would take a little longer. So what? At least we’d know what we were up against. Currently, we were involuntary captives. Tarmac delays sucked. "