Laundry

After eight months, I finally dropped off my wedding dress for cleaning. I was intent on just getting the dress cleaned and not "preserved," so our nonexistent future offspring could play dress up with it. Fortunately, Wheezy was kind enough to accompany me downtown. The following is a reconstructed conversation:

plasticann: Hi, I'd like to get my dress cleaned. I just want to keep the dress for my kids to play dress up in. Can you tell me the difference between cleaning and preserving?
Saleslady: Well, dresses that aren't preserved turn yellow. By the time you have kids and they're old enough to play dress up, your dress might turn yellow. If you want to keep the dress ivory or white, you'll want to preserve it.
plasticann: Hmmm. Wheezy, what do you think?
Wheezy: Umm
plasticann: I don't know, it's not that much more to preserve it.
Wheezy: [Whispering] I think you should just get it cleaned, I don't think it really matters, but it's not that much more.
plasticann: ...I'm going to stick with cleaning.
Saleslady: OK, where's the dress?
plasticann: [pulling out the dress from a totebag] It's right here.
Saleslady: Wow, I can't believe you were able to fit the dress in that totebag.
plasticann: Well, I had to stuff it in. I figured it was getting cleaned and pressed so it wouldn't matter if I stuffed the dress in a bag.
Wheezy: [laughing]I don't think you care enough about the dress for preservation. You did cram it in a bag.
plasticann: I guess your right, cleaning is good enough.

As we were leaving, I realized how stuffing a dress in a bag might seem like blasphemy for the folks at the bridal salon, the house of wedding gown worship. Wheezy and I decided that the only thing worse was if we had brought the dress stuffed in a black trash bag with a bucket of fried chicken and jelly doughnuts mixed in. If only we had planned ahead, we really could have milked the situation and really mortified the salesladies.