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| Photo by meddygarnet |
Certainly my sinking heart was motivated partly by empathy, but the larger cause was an expanding sense of guilt! I, the non-girly girl, had been the one to pin the ill-fated boutonniere to his linen shirt! Good lord, I thought, I have ruined their wedding! The groom had asked me prior to the wedding to pin his orchid in place. I warned him that I lacked experience in matters of floral application. He insisted that was nonsense and that I would do just fine. I suppose then that I can lay a portion of the blame on his shoulders, as he clearly disregarded a well intentioned warning. I had a vague idea how to accomplish this task and had actually performed it a few times in the past. Most times though, I have applied them to suit jackets. In this instance there was not much space between pin and skin.
For starters I was surprised how long the pin was. It was easily 2 inches long. I think it was overkill for this particular flower…and guess that a portion of the blame can also be transferred to the florist for improperly equipping the boutonniere. I had a sense of needing to weave the pin through his shirt, without stabbing him, over the stem of the boutonniere and back through the shirt. At an earlier wedding this year, a handy magnet system was used, thus eliminating the need to mess with long pointy pins. Sadly no such option was available. More blame therefore goes to the florist for not possessing the latest-stab-proof technology.
After I had pinned it to his shirt I warned him that the sharp end of the pin was pointing inward, in the direction of his chest. I think this was my second mistake (the first being agreeing to do it in the first place). I should have started sticking the pin in a direction moving towards his shoulder rather than his chest. I panicked really and was unable to clearly think through this process. When I finished, the pin stuck out of the shirt quite a bit…but I couldn’t very well have left it under the shirt fabric, as it would have surely stabbed him.
As I walked away, I stared at the flower for some time, pleased with the overall placement, but worried for the potential poking that might ensue should someone approach him too closely! This was such a minor element of the ceremony, but to me, my role was incredibly important, as I knew, there was the potential for unspeakable carnage. And to my utter mortification the worst case scenario materialized! His bride of less than an hour lay hospitalized with a near fatal stab wound from her husband’s clumsily installed boutonniere!
My informant friend tried repeatedly to console me…but could not assuage my guilt. Surely their whole evening was ruined, and at that very moment, they were cursing the boutonniere-pinning-challenged guest who had arrogantly assumed she could handle such a vital wedding task!
Suddenly the groom appeared beside our table. I could barely force myself to look at his blood soaked shirt! I felt a tap at my shoulder and tried to ignore it…reaching for my frosty margarita glass. It was no use however, he tapped again and I was forced to turn around. I closed my eyes tightly to prolong the amount of time before I had to witness the foul results of my incompetence. I slowly opened my eyes, and noted the boutonniere was now tucked into his shirt pocket…and amazingly as my eyes scanned his shirt for the bloody evidence, I found only a small spot of blood on his sleeve!
Apologies and self flagellation began pouring from my mouth. “ I am so sorry! I knew I couldn’t do it! I warned you! You should have found someone else! I am so sorry! I suck at this kind of accessorizing! How is your wife?” Turns out she had sustained a pretty minor, superficial scratch, and would not need emergency surgery! I began to breathe again…but continued to apologize mindlessly. He hushed me saying, “It is my time to talk now!” Here it comes! , I thought, the lambasting for being such a useless moron who did not even possess the most basic and standard skill of boutonniere pinnage!
My groom friend tends to wax poetic, and to my utter astonishment, he spun the story into a beautiful, symbolic event of love! This spot of blood from his new wife, he believed, was a further sign of their love and shared bond, much like blood brothers (only the husband and wife version). If that was where he wanted to go with it, I was going to zip my lip and gracefully accept his kind gesture intended I think, in part to let me off the hook! I soon saw his lovely bride and tentatively inspected her gash, and found a small scratch on her back. She too did not have me forcibly removed from the premises, but kindly let me know that all was well, she would heal.
Whew! That was a close call! I vowed at the moment, that as soon as I got back to my room (after hours of dancing and partying to an incredible Latin band, eating cake and skinny dipping in the resort pool) I would google the exact method of boutonniere application to insure in future I was prepared! So I did, and what I found was interesting. For the most part I had done it correctly! I expected that there would be a magic, pin concealing methodology…such as inserting the pin along the length of the stem of the flower, but no. It did suggest that the pin should face the other way. In all honesty however, I would still expect some potential catastrophe to be possible as long as pins are involved.
In future weddings, I plan to avoid being around the wedding party whilst they prepare, should I again be recruited for such a task. I know I could now confidently step forward and say “Yes, I know how to put on a boutonniere, how may I assist you?”, but I shall resist! I want no further blood on my hands!
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