Oh David.

I think David's Bridal was invented to torment bridesmaids. From the moment you walk in the door, it is obvious they are against you. Those cheery little girls at the front desk practically drool on you as they trample each other to introduce themselves. Then...they find out you aren't a bride, you are *gasp* just a bridesmaid. Then they retreat as quickly as possible, attempting to find someone else to pawn you off onto.

My first experience with David's Bridal left me with my six-year-old zipping up dresses, and me choosing a size bigger than I apparently needed, because the girl who was supposed to be helping me out had disappeared. I made the best decision I could when relying on a first grader's opinion. I have wide shoulders, a wide rib cage, and sort of narrow hips. I couldn't hardly zip up one size. The next size up seemed to fit in the ribs, but was way too loose through out the rest of the dress. Since Helper Girl had long since run off, I chose the size up knowing I was going to need it taken in quite a bit.

I had to special order the dress, and it came in a week early. Originally, I was going to need to pay for rush alterations. This would save me money, by changing my appointment. I called the alteration line, explaining my dress had arrived early and I wanted to change my appointment. They oohhed and ahhhed and gushed over me, until I informed them it was a bridesmaid dress. Suddenly they only had one appointment left. Saturday. At noon. During the busiest time in the store. Bitches.

I arrived. Kenny and Jill in tow. I wasn't going to suffer alone. And this time, I wanted more than Jill to help with the zipper. Nothing about the process was simple. Pick the dress up in one line. Get the shoes in another. Drop the shoes off somewhere else entirely for dying. Go to the back of the store for alterations. Then back to the front to pay. I stood in lines for over an hour. And paid for a lot of unnecessary alterations. Why? Because apparently, six-years-olds don't know how to pick sizes for bridesmaid dresses.

I put the dress on, holding it up at top in attempt to not show off my boobs to all of the women in the alterations room. It was a fancy move to hold the dress up, step up onto a platform, and cover my boobs all at the same time. I managed. Much better than the girl next to me, who had already flashed me her left boob more than once. A tiny woman, with pins in her pursed lips, clucked at me. "You order dress too big."

"I couldn't zip the smaller one all the way up." I explain to her, showing how where the zipper got stuck an inch from the top.

She stands up, taking measurements of my ribcage, my shoulders, and my busts. She turns me in a circle. "Smaller size better for you. I let it out one inch."

"Yeah, well, it is too late now. I already bought this one. I don't have time to exchange it for the smaller size."

She gives me a very disapproving look. "I have to charge you lot for that. $180. It only $30 to let out seam. You pay too much."

Somewhere, David (I imagine he looks like a little leprechaun) is skipping around gleefully, clicking his heels together. "Brilliant!" He exclaims happily, "I lure the brides in with me lucky charms. Treat them like princesses. Mark their dresses down, give them a good deal, and a discount for making all of their bridesmaids shop here! Then because the bridesmaids are stuck and have no bloody choice, I will jack up the price of their dresses. In fact, I will have my cashiers inform the bridesmaid that they, in fact, paid more for their bridesmaid dress than the bride did for her dress. That will be more fun than following a rainbow to a pot of gold! Also, we will not help the wee little lasses at all, and then we will charge them horrid amounts for alterations. Teeheehehee!" Little David skips around his office some more, before rolling around in his pile of gold coins.

David's Bridal. I. Hate. You. And I want my $180 dollars back.