By Alex Iwashyna, blogger at Late Enough
When Richmondmom (who has a real name I’d bet) asked me to attend the preview of the Lewis Ginter Gardenfest of Lights, I said: Um, okay. Can I tweet and write about socially awkward weird stuff?
She mistakenly said: Yes. (I’m pretty sure one of her eighteen kids was asking if they could take my place when I get fired, but I ignored all subsequent tweets from her.)
The day of the event, I finally looked at the invitation because Lewis Ginter is Northside which means there are exactly three hundred and fifteen ways to get there all of which are really one road that change names eight times.
I also noticed it said no children and business attire. So I went to look for matching pajamas and told my four year old to enjoy his first babysitting experience. But be in bed by eight, yo.
I arrived and was immediately harassed by gardeners who examined my fingernails for signs of correct soil pH and sniffed me for mulch. I had remembered to wear patchouli so I passed for the organic hippie gardener that Lewis Ginter loves. To hate.
We were directed to the conservatory. With a rope. Of lights. And frozen bodies. (I’m always Miss. Scarlet. Obviously.)
My husband and I attempted to sit alone to spare others our socially awkward nose-picking and attempted to play pick-up-sticks.
I now owe Lewis Ginter $500. Probably. However, three unsuspecting workers of the sponsor M&T Bank sat with us. And then made the fatal mistake of opening their mouths.
Banker bees: Hi.
Me: Hi. You work for M&T Bank?
Banker bee: Yes.
Me: I’ve never heard of it. {I meant this in sincere honesty. Like I’ve never heard of most things in Richmond. I had to google Northside for goodness sakes.}
Banker bee: We’ve been around since the 1860s and are headquartered Buffalo, New York.
Me: I’m sorry to hear that.
BB: What do you do?
Me: I write.
BB: Exactly.
So we got up to leave but then they sounded the gong. Seriously. And the leader of the M&T Bank said they don’t like to talk about Buffalo in Richmond, VA. I responded: EXACTLY.
After eating from both buffet tables so no one would realize how much food we had consumed, we ventured into the actual GardenFest of Lights with the three other idiots willing to leave free food and drink for a bunch of Christmas lights in various animal shapes.
I found the crocodile and another dead-ish body.
A crazed wolf who just kept running in ominous circles.
At that moment I realized how HORRIBLE it must be to know that you are only here for a few months. That soon you will be disassembled and replaced by a BUNCH OF PLANTS. THAT’S NOT A WAY TO LIVE!
I spoke to the peacock at length about why he needed to lead the rebellion. The lights could be YEAR ROUND if they just destroyed all the plants when no one was looking! And everyone was STUFFING THEIR FACES! It was a one in a million chance.
I spent the rest of my time trying to rile up the spiders to attack the peacock for his unwillingness to lead the light animal uprising.
Until I realized one of them was a terrorist spider. Because that’s just not cool.
And then I just took pictures of myself. Because I’m like that.
And coming home, I turned to my husband and said: Our kids would really like this. Mostly to see the plants die. Just ask our begonias.
Alex Iwashyna blogs at Late Enough mostly about life, parenting, marriage, zombies, culture, religion and her inability to wake up in the morning and not hate everyone. She also facilitates a local moms group called Nobody Told Me! (because OBVIOUSLY) and runs the web content for the Blogger Body Calendar project. Feel free to find her on Facebook or the Twitter @L8enough. But don’t call. She’s NOT a phone person.
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