I recently received an invitation to my old childhood friend Amy's bridal shower that informed me that the bride was registered at APerfectWeddingGift.com. When I went to the site, I found out that the "perfect" gift I was expected to give her was cold, hard cash, because Amy and Brad had basically registered for money. I was supposed to be delighted about this "no hassle" and "polite way" to give the gift that would make "their wedding dreams come true." Apparently ShakeDowntheGuests.com was considered too crass, and maybe KeepYourDamnToasters.com was already taken.
You guessed it: Bridezilla strikes again.
As you may know, the term bridezilla originates from the story of Godzilla, a cute little lizard who was exposed to poisonous atomic radiation that turned him into a monster. It's my belief that, like Godzilla, most bridezillas are perfectly nice women who, when exposed to the poisonous 45-billion- (yes, BILLION!) dollar-a-year bridal industry, turn into monsters of a very unique sort. Like my friend Amy, for example, who forced her bridesmaids to spend $300 on puce polyester sheaths and then insisted that the entire bridal party get spray-on tans so their "skin would match." (Yes, she actually said that.)
The monstrous behavior of a bridezilla is endlessly fascinating. As proof, entire TV specials are devoted to gleefully categorizing the sins of the bridezilla '- the crying, screaming meltdowns over dyed-to-match shoes that do not, in fact, match; the emails sent to bridesmaids bitchily informing them that they need to lose weight before the wedding; the screeching at three-year-old flower girls to get their "scrawny" butts out there and walk down the aisle.