As I have mentioned before, there are a boatload of friends getting married in the coming year. This Friday starts the four weddings in which I will be attending. It is the only one of the four that I am not standing up in. I am trying to figure out who will die in the next year to complete the four weddings and a funeral theme. Best of luck to everyone on avoiding that.
The response to a wedding invite is becoming as difficult as writing out the congratulatory check. Will you attend? With a guest? See, one of my set backs is that I am a recovering momma's boy. I listened to my mom with her unconditional wisdom. She told me to mark that I would bring a guest. Even at that moment I had no girlfriend let alone any prospects.
This is going to be a minor issue when at the reception when I am greeted by the couple and they ask where my date is and I have to say something came up. The bright side is that I plan on going hungry to the reception and eating two entres. There is no sense in letting things go to waste. Plus I think I ordered the chicken.
The wonder and joy of the wedding reception lies within the various conversations at all the tables. No matter who is seated together, they will all critique the hell out of the most randomly frivolous detail. Meanwhile those same women are wearing so many sequins that the dj shines the spotlight on them. Elderly people will be in full effect; ounces of chanel, smeared make up, and of course questions. When are you going to meet someone and settle down? The day you stop wearing smelling salts as perfume I will reconsider my views on marriage. I remember when you were only as tall as my knee. Well, I guess the fact you remember is reason to celebrate.
Sure enough there will be the following on Friday, Long Island Ice Teas, old people "not getting" rap music, ugly dresses, blind date set ups, the electric slide, my mom telling me to stop drinking after I start to smile freely, and an ever so classy scuffle for the boquette.