Almost everyone we’ve asked to do something for our wedding is an idiot. I must exclude rgl and Hat, of course, and indeed most close friends that have lent a hand. But venue organizers, suit-hire shops, caterers: all these people deserve kicking in the temple and shoving in the bin. To cap it all, just when I felt like I had everything sorted, the jeweller’s shop rang to say they couldn’t find any record of my engagement ring, sent to them to be cleaned.
The panic eventually blew over: the engagement rings both went on the same order to be cleaned up, but only one was referenced on the paperwork. I shouldn’t be so hard on the jeweller’s (who have in all other respects been far nicer than a chain such as Ernest Jones, who steadfastly ignored me when I asked to try on engagement rings). Their customer service has been otherwise fantastic, throughout two engagement rings and now two wedding rings. Their jewellery is beautiful, and their staff actually understand the product, beyond the mere selling of it.
But sometimes—and it might well just be me, as existing stresses magnify each new stress—it feels like the entire service and catering industry of the United Kingdom drew up some kind of secret manifesto in advance. Don’t necessarily wreck their wedding, reads the summary of this manifesto: just their nerves.