“Serviettes and seat sashes must match the forget-me-not blue centrepieces,” the manager of the White Swan wedding reception venue, instructs his staff.
“Shouldn’t they be tea-rose yellow?” bewildered table setters query.
“Perhaps they want a mixture,” the manager’s momentarily perplexed. “We’ll do half blue, half yellow.”
A swarm of guests vie for table places. Many remain standing.
Two wrathful billows of white, towing befuddled grooms, elbow each other to be first into the venue. One bride carries a bouquet of blue forget-me-nots, the other yellow tea-roses.
“He’s double booked,” staff snigger as the manager high-tails it out the back door.
“Shouldn’t they be tea-rose yellow?” bewildered table setters query.
“Perhaps they want a mixture,” the manager’s momentarily perplexed. “We’ll do half blue, half yellow.”
A swarm of guests vie for table places. Many remain standing.
Two wrathful billows of white, towing befuddled grooms, elbow each other to be first into the venue. One bride carries a bouquet of blue forget-me-nots, the other yellow tea-roses.
“He’s double booked,” staff snigger as the manager high-tails it out the back door.
