Here comes the massive bride

Everyone in this office is either getting married or having a baby. That’s how it seems anyway, I could be slightly over exaggerating on this one occasion but there are a heck of a lot of fat ladies walking around and people huddled in corners talking about bouquets and reception venues and the size of their rings (easy).

I’ve just been sat on the loo listening into a conversation between a pregnant lady and a lady who is getting married in a week and a half. Yes I was ear wigging, don’t judge me – how the heck do you think I get half the information for this blog anyway?!

So the gal getting hitched is my co-captain for the netball team and has been as useless as a chocolate fire guard this week in organising the team as her head is in wedding land. I just took over in the end as she was driving me insane and the rest of the team were very confused. As far as I can surmise she is getting married to an Irish gypsy or something, he seems hard as fuck and dodgy as they come anyway. Gunner predicts fights at the wedding and drunken mishaps. She’s not an Irish Gypsy herself, I think she’s from Croydon, but she likes horses and obviously likes a bit of Traveller so it’s probably a good match. I saw the photos of her hen do – it wasn’t pretty.

The pregnant woman is from Finance and the most miserable bitch ever. She’s Eastern European (that’s British for “she seems to sound Polish but might not be so we’ll just put her in that general direction”) and quite pretty but as sour as they come. I think I’ve seen her smile twice since I have been here and once was probably when someone fell over and hurt themselves. I have to give her my expenses forms and purposely go down there all chipper and jolly “Hello!! Where would you like this form?!” (I can think of several suggestions…) “In the blue tray” doesn’t even look up from her computer and sounds like she is about to pull out a rifle on me. She is massively pregnant, so big I am worried she might pop at some stage all over the coffee machine or something. That happens right? She waddles at some speed when there is free cake involved though. She’s apparently shite at her job and on contract so when she goes on maternity leave she’s not coming back. Shame.

It’s ok though, she has duped some poor rich guy into marrying her and having her babies (I know this through the very gay guy in Finance – her boss) so she’s got an engagement rock on her finger and nothing to worry about.

So back to the toilet conversation. You know when people stop to chat as they are washing their hands and you’re trying not to wee too loudly or let out a little guff? Move on people, there is a time and a place! So here we have preggers and wedding chick chatting about the upcoming nuptials:

Preggers: “Hi how are you?”
WC: “Good thanks, bit stressed out though”
Preggers: “Oh yeah when is it you are getting married?”
WC: “Week after next”
Preggers: “Wow, where are you having it?”
WC: Names a place I can’t remember, lets say The Albert Hall
Preggers: “So how many people you got coming?”
WC: “79 to the ceremony and then more in the evening, not sure how many”

At this point I zone out a bit, it’s boring and dull, they’re chatting about buffets and free bars etc..yada yada ya…

Preggers: “Yeah I was engaged to be married but I could never be bothered to arrange the wedding”
WC: “Oh…….. right?”
Preggers: “Yeah we were engaged for 4 years, we split up in the end though”
WC: “Oh no, sorry to hear that”
Preggers:”It’s ok we’re still good friends”

Yeah I’m sure you are if he has any money….

Preggers: “I think it’s because we waited too long to get engaged, this time though I just did it all quickly”
WC: “Yeah I can see that!” (Probably indicating her massive massive baby bump)
Preggers: “Yeah you know it’s probably happened a bit too quick but well…”
WC: “Yeah, er, well I really love my fiancé so…”
Preggers: “Eh? Oh of course, yeah right…”

At this point I realise I have been sat on the loo for about 5 minutes and they might think I am having a huge dump or some kind of bowel problems. Then I’m undecided as to if I should wait for them to go or just come out the loo. They’re still chatting, they could be hours and I have things to do before I go home. Erm. I flush.

Preggers: “Anyway I hope it all goes ok”
WC: “Yeah thanks, I’ll be glad when I’m on that plane to Thailand” (Honeymoon)

Oh damn, they’re ending the conversation. Do I wait a bit? Yeah I’ll wait.

Preggers: “Oh is that your honeymoon?”
WC: “Yeah, can’t wait, we’ve booked to stay in…..”

Bugger. Now I’ve flushed and have been stood here ages, they’ll be thinking I am having trouble pulling my knickers up or something…. I’ll leave, I’ll go out. I do. They both say hello. I leave.

Damn work toilet etiquette.

So in conclusion be sure to get engaged and married and pregnant as fast as possible in order to snare your man. If you can’t be bothered to organise your own wedding you’ll lose that guy and his wallet and have to search around for another, looking sour all the time. Alternatively search the local caravan sites for a suitable gyppo.

I should write a book on weddings, this shit is easy.