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When my family goes to The Greenbrier, we normally have a celebration occurring. One time it was my birthday, another time my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary, my Grandmama’s 75th birthday,
Thanksgivings, Easters, and other holidays. The last time we went to The Greenbrier was in November 2008. Thanksgiving. It is normally seen as a HAPPY TIME for families to get together and share their love with one-another…
Photo of me being happy at The Greenbrier (lets ignore the baby fat and acne and awkwardness, okies? ha!):
because you almost always love each other, right?
Well, a few of the patriarchs of my family had a bit too much to drink, the kitchen staff was shorthanded (this was right before they declared bankruptcy afterall), and they had overbooked for our meal time. People were getting grouchy, and they were old… and opinionated… and WASPs. Soooo, things got a bit dicey. Let’s just say some older family members lost their cool, yelled at one another across the table and you-know-what hit the fan in front of an entire dining room of people on Thanksgiving night. Ironically, that was right when our dinner arrived. By the time all of the entrees were placed, the table was half empty. Our buddy Donny, former Dining Room Manager, had expedited our Thanksgiving dinner to our table but it was too late, 40% of our table did not have Thanksgiving dinner that year. The pictures that follow (me in Banana Republic forest green silk satin cap sleeve dress, Jimmy Choo sequined stilettos) are mostly me but my cousin as well. Seeing as dinner was cut so short (but not at the same time), the night was young!, so I “borrowed” a bottle of White Star from my Grandpapa
and frolicked all over the hotel with my cousins. These pictures are some of my absolute favorites while having a good dose of bubbly in my system. Thankfully no one was injured in any major way that night (just emotionally from embarrassment), although all of us cousins contracted a severe stomach virus that left us bedridden for the last three days of our stay. Fabulous. The memories I have from this night are some of the most hysterical, age-appropriate without being naughty, moments I have ever had. My “baby sister” cousin Charlotte was the best for putting on a brave face and letting me entertain her with my antics. Obviously, when you are High WASP, you cannot let ANYONE rain on your parade (“Mr. Arnstein, here I am!”):
Memories are as follows:
Arriving in elevator before dinner, we realize Charlotte matches the ENTIRE elevator. Her brocade dress, my clutch, and my pashmina (because sisters share everything!) accessorize perfectly with the carpet, wood finish, and brass handles. Natch, my pre-dinner cocktail says this moment needs to be documented with a picture.
Editors note: I just realized Char is wearing a diff outfit here. I think this was the night before Thanksgiving when we all ate at Sam Snead’s by the golf course. And my aunt “broke” 3 martini glasses. Uh huh, right. I demand Charlotte to “spin dammit” underneath the chandelier in the ballroom so I can “remember” the pre-Christmas décor that was already up in the pink ballroom. Of course a bellhop walks into the shot and Charlotte covered her face while laughing hysterically. That is what she does when she is embarrassed. Covers her face and keeps going!!
Post-poo-hitting-fan: I decide we are going to the most obscure places in the hotel, including the few floors we have never stayed on. I also decide to carry around a bottle of champagne to hydrate me on my mission, and realize that while Charlotte matched the elevator, I matched the walls and carpet of the entire main level. Go figure. Matching carpet and walls (and Ladies room sign). This was my profile picture on Facebook for eons and eons.
We decided that I needed to have a “Through the Looking Glass” moment in the Victorian Writing Room, only I don’t end up going through the mirror. Disappointment. I don’t hold a grudge against the room, where I normally go to “hang out”. Can you even hang out at the G’brier? Really? I don’t know to be honest.
The man at the bowling alley insisted I get rid of my champagne bottle and gives me a cup to place my beverage in. Wow! Champagne through a straw is bad, as you do not delicately sip it as you natch should. Things get really silly at this point. Here, I decide to get friendly with the barber shop sign. Classy. Why do I look so perplexed you may ask? Because my Dad comes around the corner by Draper’s Cafe and the shops asking me if I’ve seen my boy cousin and his BFF who got to come (because my bro was still in China!!). I was perplexed because Dad almost caught me being “fresh!”
My Mom said when this photo was taken, “oh aren’t you being silly!” Oh yes mother darling, I am being “silly.” That is exactly what is going on. Meanwhile, Mother darling, please hold this cup while Charlotte and I have a brief photo shoot of me in this chair. GB is probs the only place in the world where I won’t fight you if you ask me to wear hose, too. Because it is just that special.
I then discovered the creepiest hallway ever. You would have expected two twin girls to appear at the end asking Charlotte and I to “come play with us.” Did not happen, but we did find the world’s smallest working door, which was immensely amusing to photograph. I do not think my shoulders would fit through honestly. WHAT IS IT FOR??
My champagne was gone at this point, so we then decided to look for a not-2-dollar from-bedroom-minibar-or-bowling-alley soda machine. Where did I find it? In a secret place near some laundry basket. Not the most helpful image. Then again The Greenbrier (G’Brier or GB) is not a Holiday Inn, there aren’t any instructional signs of where you are and what places to not go in. That would not be classy. And See? I STILL match EVERYTHING. Even the service doors. Go figure that this joke still resonates with us kids almost three years later.
I think it was 2AM at this point. So I decided to lay on the pink Ballroom floor and take a picture of the chandelier. Good thing nobody but Char was around.
I wonder if a certain blogger (Lindsey) can tell me how to make THESE curtains. Okay, maybe we should call them drapes… as they drape so nicely. No? Don’t think they’ll fit my dining room? Probably not. Darn.
So, GB, you think when I fall asleep this pattern is what I want to see? Really? Upside down tulips in a psycho pattern? Now, why can those babies not be more spread out? Really. I had to buy a spa mask to sleep in this place because those blue china vases would glow in the night. It was eerie WASP-ness.
Munchies are NOT $18.00 peanuts. Lo siento, m’dear. We did do some damage the next day.
The next day. Stomach virus in full swing at the entire resort. White Sulphur Springs, WV got a lot of us sick, natch it spread because of employees. So not anyone’s fault at all. However, room service was busy and didn’t neglect a single detail. I know they felt bad because they probs had HEARD about dinner the night before. And that I missed my skeet shooting and horseback riding lessons that were supposed to work off my dinner from the night before. If you cannot tell, Charlotte and I went all out with the “I’m sick” grub: chicken noodle soup, large pot of hot water for green tea, honey for tea, dry biscuits, orange jello, and lemon wedges. Cheery goodness. L-O-V-E! Remember that vending machine we found? WELL, the hotel ran out of SODA so we sickly kids tried to explain to Aunt Mel where the hell the vending machine was and she totes mcgoats got lost trying to find it. Dad had to “go to town” (where are we, outside London?) and get us some ginger ale there instead. Righteous!
FYI, while other people hated this night, I loved it. Just because of my antics with Charlotte. Best. Night. Ever.
Photos by me unless noted otherwise.