My Big Fat Low-Fat Wedding - By Katya Starkey Page 0,25
her phone and I presume she’s giving her robot some app instructions. “We’re not near any great bodies of water.”
She’s right. I don’t think there’s any chance of accidental electrocution. I’m still cautious though when Lara guides the robot towards me. “I’m just going to do some alterations.”
“With me in the dress?”
Lara nods and a funny looking sewing machine pops out of the bridal robot. It angles it’s dangerous looking device towards me and starts sewing and snipping away.
“Isn’t this great?” Lara seems excited. I, however, am not. I don’t see why she can’t wait until I’ve taken this bloody dress off to do the stitching bits on it.
The front door bell tinkles. “I’ll be right back.” Lara heads out of the room.
“You can’t just leave me alone with this machine, Lolz!”
“You’ll be fine,” she replies with a wave of her hand upon leaving.
Fantastic. Now I’m left with one of these horrible robots as it zips and whirrs all around the dress I’m wearing. I feel tugging around the skirt area and when the robot’s sewing mechanism rises up onto the bodice of my gown, I start to quiver with fear. Lifting my arms I watch in the mirror as the lace covered bot sews in stitches on the upper corset part of my dress. I’m holding as still as I can. The robot’s sewing device contains sharp needles and small blades for cutting away string and fabric.
Why oh why did I agree to let this thing near me? Any minute now it’s probably going to malfunction and stab me to death! I’m going to die by accidental slicing this time and I think I’d much prefer gentle electrocution by drowning!
“There we go, all done.”
Lara has returned and the robot is gently hovering by her side. All signs of torture device looking sewing apparatus have disappeared back into its bell surface.
“It’s finished?”
“It certainly is. What do you think, Em?”
Looking up, I glance into the mirrors that line the walls of the fitting room. “It’s a bit better…”
I’m about to say more when Lara practically rages at me. “Fine, you don’t like it.” She stomps toward me. “Just take it off and I’ll order in a new batch of dresses for you to try on.”
“But, Lolz—”
“No.” She cuts me off. “Just turn around so I can untie the sash… oh my god.”
“Oh my god what?” When there’s no response from my best friend, I try to see where she’s looking.
“That damn robot.” Lara turns and I glance her way. “Where has it gone?”
She’s right. Where has the bridal bot gone? And why is its presence so important?
Just then, my phone rings. I take it out from between my boobs where I’d stuffed it before trying on dresses. “Hello, Anika?” I say, as soon as I pick up the call. “Is everything all right?”
“Boss lady!” Anika’s voice blares into my ear. “Your robot! It is destroying the cafe!”
My robot? My eyes glaze over as sounds of catastrophe blast out from the phone. “Get yourself and Fiona out of there right now, Anika!” I screech. “I’ll be there in two seconds. Lara, get me out of this dress!”
“I can’t.”
She what? “Anika,” I shout into the phone again. “Are you and Fiona safely out of the cafe now?”
“Yes boss lady! And the robot is gone!”
I can’t believe this is happening, and why isn’t Lara untying my sash? “I’m phoning the police now and I’ll be there shortly, like I said.” I ring off and shove the phone into my boobs again. “Lara? Did you hear that? I’ve got to go! Help me out of this dress right now!”
“I can’t.”
Glancing at her reflection in the mirror first, I whirl around. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
Lara has placed her hands over her mouth and her eyes look worried. “Oh, Emily I’m so sorry but that fucking robot has sewn you into that dress!” She wails. “It’s going to take me hours to cut you out!”
Oh. My. Fucking. Fuck. “Tell me you’re joking, Lolz.” I try shifting and pulling the corset top, but that only hurts my ribs so I stop squirming immediately.
All Lara does is shake her head, once again plastering her fingers worriedly over her mouth.
“Argh!” I rage. “This can’t be happening!” Jumping down off the low pedestal, I stuff my feet into my trainers and run out of the fitting room. Lara bustles by my side, apologising like a crazy lady.
“It’s fine, Lolz,” I tell her as I approach the front door of