In case you’re just tuning in, be sure to read my initial Marriage Ref announcement and yesterday’s behind-the-scenes glimpse at the NBC studios.
Today, I shall divulge the most exciting thing that happened leading up to our appearance that involved The Lion The Ambulance, The Witch The Woman and The Wardrobe.
Now, let me frame this story by divulging our dealings with the Wardrobe staff. Jamie and I were allegedly supposed to receive an email prior to flying out to NYC that explained we should bring three different outfit from which to choose.
We did not receive that email.
Communication was frenzied and sparse because they were taping other episodes while juggling our requests (in fact, we didn’t find out our taping date until a few days prior) so we thought nothing of it. Jamie and I each picked an outfit we thought would work and ended it at that.
Until the Wardrobe ladies appeared at our hotel aghast we only had one outfit.
“No worries, no worries,” the Wardrobe Lady said as if to console herself. “We have a large selection of clothing at the studio. We’ll make this work.”
‘This’ meaning ‘us.’ I think.
After doing a run-through on set, hanging in the Green Room and getting gussied up in hair and make-up, Wardrobe was my final stop. Jamie had been given a suit jacket but I was shown a rack of clothes and instructed to model three different outfits. The Wardrobe lady took pictures of me in each of my selections and sent them off to The Higher Power (whom I hoped was not the White Witch).
As we were awaiting a response, drama unfolded in the most unexpected way. The Wardrobe Lady’s assistant nestled back on her chair and after a moment, exclaimed, “Oh no!”
This is a common phrase when you live my Murphy’s Law life so I immediately perked up. Could it be someone was suffering from my bad luck by osmosis?
Yup.
Concerned, the Wardrobe Lady circled her friend, trying to ascertain the situation. “You have a huge gash in your rear end,” she announced.
Turns out, the assistant accidentally sat on her seam ripper. And this wasn’t just any wound but a gluteus maximus gash that needed stitches.
For 15 minutes, the assistant resisted attempts to send her to the hospital because she didn’t want to miss the wrap party (she’d be back in time) and because the ER is expensive (she was assured it would be covered by Wardrobe Workwoman’s comp).
They apologized profusely over needing to tend to her needs before my own but I wished them well. Butt gashes trump Wardrobe angst any day and for once I was glad to be on the other end.
No pun intended.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 