I've served as a bridesmaid 9 times. And I've attended at least 55 weddings.
You want me at your nuptials.
Not because of my planning skills. Or storytelling skills. Or magic on the dance floor.
It's because of this story:
I once trekked to Michigan for the wedding of my best friend's brother. All of my friends were either groomsmen or a bridesmaid. Except me. God had a plan.
Immediately after the ceremony, the groomsmen rallied around the new husband and discovered he'd forgotten an important "tool" for the wedding night of two first-timers. Someone would need to run to the drugstore, but the photographer was waiting.
All eyes fell to me.
Although I'd never purchased or even needed this particular "tool," I decided now was the time to prove my worth. Moments later, I found myself wandering around a Rite-Aid in a little black dress and 4 inch heels looking for something related to Kentucky.
A guy approached me with his vest and his nametag and his adorable face and asked "Can I help you find something?" My palms were sweating at the prospect of answering that simple question. But I took a deep breath, summoned the courage and answered "Yes. Where's the toothpaste?"
He guided me to aisle 4 and smiled at his own helpfulness. It was a beautiful smile.
But I didn't need a tube of toothpaste.
After three overwhelming minutes, I stood wavering in front of a wall of "tools." I quickly grabbed the appropriate one and headed to the front. I exhaled in a Whitney Houston way when I saw the kind and motherly cashier checking customers out.
The final hurdle was upon me.
Sensing this single purchase would draw too much attention, I added a pack of Tic Tacs to my planned purchase.
I was now the next to be helped and the finish line was in sight.
And then it happened.
Kind-and-motherly was replaced with adorable-face.
I placed my tube and my Tic Tacs on the counter and waited for the laughter and the pointing and the scarlet "J."
But adorable-face only asked "You know this isn't toothpaste, right?"