"Um...yes...?" was our eloquent reply to the gum-popping, dirty t-shirt wearing, over-dyed blonde who greeted us at the venue for which we'd driven two and a half hours in the pouring rain and blowing snow to see. We arrived fresh-faced and eager, my digital camera and moleskine notebook in hand for note-taking (go ahead, call me a nerd). We were more than a little surprised by her apparent lack of knowledge about why we had shown up on the doorstep of the B&B that she runs, since Alix had spoken to her extensively on the phone about our wedding, our visit today, and - most importantly - the fact that this is a same-sex (i.e., GAYGAYGAY) wedding.
Which then left us utterly nonplussed by the next question: "So, which one of you is the bride?"
*insert long pause* "Um...we both are...?"
Gum-popping blonde looks confused, then shrugs and says, "Well here's the rooms...you can look in this one, don't worry, someone's staying in it but he's out at the movies right now." Right, because it's totally okay to look in the room that someone is paying $200 a night to stay in when he's at the movies. Good lord, but if I were spending that much money, I would consider it my God-given right to leave my dirty clothes and pornographic material all over the damn room, since one would assume that visitors wouldn't be casually waltzing through. Thankfully, this poor man whose privacy was so nonchalantly invaded had not left either of said items out, and Alix and I retreated as quickly as possible. Our next mission then became that of howsooncanweleavethisawfulplace.
We politely thanked our host, smiled while telling bold-faced lies about how we'd keep in touch and walked quickly to the car in utter silence, realizing en route that my camera and notebook had not made a single appearance. Once the doors were locked and the engine on, we looked at each other and simply said, "Nope. Not the one." And the search goes on.
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