Textual Harrassment --I'm Running for the Hills As We Speak

Like many new brides finding their way through a white gossimer whirlwind that will last approximately 9-12 months, I got on the internet and signed up for e-mail updates from a few bridals sites. Would I like to know when sales are? Sure. How about special coupons and shopping opportunities? Yeah, sounds great. Would I like to win a free wedding dress or my bridesmaids gowns? Would I!? Sign me up!

Most sites send a standard one or two e-mails a week (they have to remind you that they're there in case you were thinking of shopping with someone else), but there's one site that, if it were an actual male, I would slap it with a restraining order and start carrying a tazer. Sorry, David's Bridal, but between multiple daily e-mail updates (yes, I know you're having a $50 off $300 sale, but I'm at work! Can we please discuss this later?) and now the four page text message, I think we should start seeing other people. (I discovered the text after returning from a meeting with a woman who is the literal third heat of my stress. She makes Haiti look organized.)

Scenario: After a long Tuesday where Amy, instead of taking a lunch, opted to go to the bank to discuss lending options and get pre-approved for a home where she and the Mister can nest and possibly hatch an egg or two, Amy looks forward to meeting Daniela --the friend who broke the news on JaMarcus Russell in Mobile, at Zeas after work. Throughout the day, David has chimed into Amy's busy schedule: once to remind her of a discount sale and once to let her know there was a $99 gown sale.

"Wow, really? $99? David, that's awesome. Tell me more!" Amy asked, enthused this somewhat suffocating relationship was finally taking a turn for the better.

"Oh, well first, let me show you our fabulous modern and chic collection!" David gushed while showing off a lovely $499 gown.

"David," Amy deadpanned, "I want to see the $99 gowns first."

"But those are so not up your alley!" David insisted.

Amy rolled her eyes and shut David out.

Later that day, after a meeting, one of David's friends sent her a text message --at text message (how invasive!), telling her about what a super-great guy David was and how Amy really should contact him for all of her needs. Wink, wink.

Thus far, Amy had ignored these communications and hoped David would get the hint and leave her to make her decisions on her own. Look, it's not like she didn't like David, it's just that she didn't know him that well, and he had a bit of a reputation. David was very popular with the brides, and Amy kind of wanted to see if there was something a little more unique.

While at Zeas with Daniela, Amy got a communication from David. "Amy, you've got to check out my new advice for brides!"

Unfortunately, David sent this communication before Amy could have solids for the day (the appetizer of fresh, homemade, would-amputate-a-toe-for-it guacamole had yet to arrive). Her last straw snapped, Amy said, "You know what, David, why don't you take your generic services elsewhere. This bride-to-be deserves something exotic, something unique, and I'm willing to wait for it!"

Looking both hurt and flabergasted, David left.

(Months pass)

It was January, and Amy hadn't heard from David since their fight. Not only had Amy not heard from David, Amy had also failed to find a dress that she could afford. Suddenly, $499 didn't seem so expensive. Maybe she should have heard David out. There's nothing sadder, after all, than a lonely bride without a dress.

---To be continued.

Okay, obviously that didn't all happen (everything before Zeas is true, and I do plan to go to Zeas today). I realize that if I send David away, he'll be the only person trying to help me and save me money in the long run, after all, that's why so many brides use David's services. Seriously though, these e-mails are ridiculous, and now text messages? Is Florence from the viels, stocking, and garter department going to phone me? Show up on the porch with a singing telegram?

I shudder to think. So, I'm not throwing the bridal shop out with the couture garter, but I am going to find a dress ASAP so I can click the magical, "remove from e-mail list" on all those pesky bridal e-mails. Ah, accomplishment.