The Papa Schnapps Wedding

My first ever Lux wedding came about because of Mr. Chris Union. The Groom was Dad’s caddy for a day of golf out with some friends and Dad and the caddy, Josh, got along well. When Josh told Dad he was getting married Dad said, “You gotta a florist?”

“I don’t think so.” Josh said.

“My daughter’s a florist. Here’s her card. Ask for the Papa Schnapps Discount.“

A week later I received an email from the bride, a really really really sweet girl who asked me a bunch of the usual questions and then politely found a place to awkwardly mention “Papa Snops?” I had to explain to her that Papa Schnapps is what I called my old man when I was a little girl and they were now entitled to the family discount.

The bride and I met a few times, planned out her décor, and signed papers to make it all official. The week of her wedding I wasn’t feeling well. I had a stomach bug that I first mistook as food poisoning and I waddled around my house waiting to throw up - to ruin my streak, to be scarred by the shame of vomiting. But I never did. Instead I moved about with a lurching stomach and the compulsion to gag when I thought about food. The day before the wedding I drove to North Charleston to pick up the flowers. I made Mom come with me because I was worried that I was too dizzy to drive. I danced around the flowershop while they packed up my flowers and printed an invoice. When we were back on the road, headed for home I realized I’d left my credit card on their counter. In my entire existence, I’ve never left a credit card anywhere. “You’re slipping up Big Lu!” I said to myself. We had to drive back out there and sheepishly pick up my card. This doesn’t seem so bad now that I write it but at the time I felt so awful I considered just leaving it there. “They’re nice people” I rationalized. “Surely they won’t use my card for evil.”

At home I unloaded my plunder and was dismayed to see that some of the pale pink flowers I had asked for were white and others were lavender in color. This is not the first time I’ve gotten the wrong colored blooms from this place and it only served to confirm my suspicions that someone at the flowershop is colorblind. So I got back in my car and drove to a floral supplier in West Ashley where I bought a can of light pink floral spray paint and then I drove home and had to spray-paint the flowers for my very first wedding.

Saturday was the big day. Mom came with me to help set-up, partially because she wanted to help but mostly because she likes to go in and look around the pretty venues. I thought things would go faster with a helper and this small wedding would be a good intro to wedding setup etiquette for her. I also worried I would be sick and not get my work done. Having Big Mama there would make me feel safe. Mom’s just have a way.

Setting up for a wedding is routine for most vendors and typically not difficult but it is understood that everyone take up as little space a possible, be mindful of the people you’re working around, and clean up as you go. There is also typically not a lot of cross dialogue or mingling with other vendors and workers. You’ve got to move quickly and stopping to chat clogs up passageways for other workers.

I tried to brief Mom on these things in the car and she laughed at me. She laughed at my file folders of information and the fact that I called it a “venue.”

“Are you paying attention? The garland is going to shed. Don’t drag it across the tablecloth. We’ll never get it clean.”

“Ok!” she said whimsically.

Upon entering the venue Mom greeted all nearby workers, commented on all the pretty things she liked, and managed to scatter her belongings throughout the main floor of the building. She took her coat off and tossed it there. Stuffed her purse in a corner there. She wandered around with innocent delight as I followed behind her picking things up as soon as she put them down.

“No. Mom.” I whispered. I didn’t want people to know I’d brought my mother with me. I’m a professional! “Pssst! Mom!”

She wandered off towards the dance floor though we needed to head to the reception area. I piled her things up on an empty table and corralled her to the back of the room where we set to work on the garland. Like I warned, the garland dropped delicate fern plumes all over the floor and the tablecloth. I’d planned for this though and brought a broom and dustpan. I didn’t’ think to bring a lint roller to dust off the tablecloth so we set to work, furiously brushing greenery around to little avail. Mom felt compelled to explain to the caterers what we were doing. “They don’t care Mom.” We had to do this four times with four huge garland pieces and after Mom would plop down the garland, she would push the garland box into any empty corner no matter who was setting up there. I would immediately go retrieve the box and put it with our pile. Mom laughed at herself each time this happened.

When it came time to bring in the flowers, Mom became very concerned about making sure my car was locked in-between carrying the flowers from the car to the reception hall. “Ok,” she said, “You carry that load and I’ll wait by the car. Oh or I’ll come with you and you can lock the car when we go.” The distance from the car to the building was about thirty feet. “Mom, I think its going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that. Anyone could just walk right up and grab your purse or steal the flowers.” I looked around the empty parking lot, sighed, and let Mom carry in a load while I stood by the car. When I came in from outside, flower boxes were scattered everywhere and Mom was telling the maintenance man something about the decorations. He looked confused and backed away slowly once I stole her attention.

“Mom. Stop talking to people. We’re putting three vases on each table. Pay attention to color and height. Don’t put anything too similar next to each other. Ok?”

“Yep!” and she set out to work, taking vases out of their boxes and carrying them one by one to the tables. We had 68 vases.

“You know Mom, you could carry the whole box and set them down as you go.”

“Ahaha!!” she replied, laughing at herself again.

I had her collect our belongings and take them to the locked car while I checked over the finishing touches. Things looked great and I sighed a sigh of relief and walked back to the car. Just then I got lightheaded, saw those awful twinkly faint-stars, and sunk down into my seat. “I’m going to faint.” I told Big Mama. We decided God let me feel healthy and strong long enough to carry all those boxes and set things up correctly so my first wedding could go off without a hitch- besides having Mr. Magoo as a set up assistant. 

I laid in bed the whole rest of the day, feeling puny, but then 9:00 rolled around and I had to go back to collect my vases and candles. This time Dad came with me. “I’m good for heavy lifting!” he said proudly and anyways, Mom already had on her pajamas. The caterers were clearing tables when we got there so we were able to walk right in and collect our things. That almost never happens. Dad gathered the glassware and brought it to me and I would pack it up in bubble wrap and boxes. It was a good system. We were 75% finished when I casually mentioned that this was Josh’s wedding and Dad’s face lit up and he barreled on into the reception, in a pair of blue jeans, to go say hi to his friend. I shook my head at my parents.

Dad couldn’t find Josh so he walked up to the bride and said, “I’m Papa Schanpps!” He came back to me, said “Couldn’t find him.”, and then got back to work. Just moments later we hear a booming voice say, “Papa Schanpps!” and we turned our heads to see Josh, standing with his arms wide open. Josh galloped towards Dad and they shared a hearty man-hug. “Fellas!” Josh shouted over his shoulder, “Come here. You gotta meet Papa Schnapps!” and so a gaggle of giggling groomsmen bounded towards us and Dad entertained the lot of them. They talked and laughed and slung jokes at each other and Dad’s blasting cackle at his own comments could be heard throughout the venue. After a few minutes the bride appeared and I was really happy to see her all dressed up. I don’t always get to see the bride on her wedding day and she looked so beautiful. I barely had a chance to say hello when Josh shouted, “Honey, have you met Papa Schnapps?”

Dad stole the show for those five minutes and finally they left to make their official rice-slinging getaway.

I slumped in bed that night, still a little queasy. Ellen called and said she was dizzy and had been throwing up all day. “I think it’s food poisoning.” she said.

“I thought that too.” I said “But it’s been three days. And I haven’t puked. Must be a bug”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm.”

“Did you hear about Papa Schnapps.” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did I tell you about Mom helping set up?” 

“Yeah. We really can’t take them anywhere.”