Why I Dislike Weddings

 In part two of Why My Middle Name is Sucker:  A Charming Tale of the Things I Do for People I Don't Even Like we go from the lame bachelorette party I got suckered into to the WONDERFUL! (barf) BEAUTIFUL (barf!) STUNNING (barf!) wedding.

First of all, the wedding was lame.  Really, really lame.  There was hardly anyone there.  I was glad I went because of that, but at the same time, clearly everyone else in this girl's life has figured out what I'm slow to get to - no one wants to be with her!  It was your typical, loser wedding.  They played way too much music, the bridesmaids looked kind of ill fitted in the dresses she selected for them, and the bride came down in all her radioactive skin glory.  Seriously, her orange skin looked positively radiant against the white brightness of her wedding dress.

I would like to add that when we went for the dress fitting, it was suggested (ahem) have the dressed altered because it was too long.  Nope.  Guess who looked like she was walking in quicksand down the aisle?  Yep.  Seems that some people may have known what they were talking about after all!

Anyway, as the wedding was over, we all filed outside to wait for the bride.  As I gave the bride a hug, she whispered into my ear "The single guy is here."  THE single guy.  THE.  And no offense to the bride (well, ok, some offense) but I don't want to be with anyone that she thinks would be good for me.  To get out of the chapel you had to go down these super tall, steep steps. As I was one of the first rows to be dismissed from the chapel, I got to see everyone walk down the steps.  This girl came out (she will be part of the story later) and she was wearing the SHORTEST SKIRT I have ever seen.  Like, "Oh look, there's her butt crack" kind of short.  But then, figure in the angle in which I was looking up, and the wind, and let's just say that I'm a lot more intimately acquainted with her than she realizes.

The ceremony is over, so we head to the hotel for the reception.  We get to the reception at 5:00.  Evidently, the dumb bride wasn't supposed to have anyone come until 6:30.  SHE didn't even show up until 6:30.  So we sat, for an hour and a half, with no drinks and no food.  It was so boring.  There was no seating arrangement, and no one knew what to do.  I went with my friend and her husband (I love being the third wheel) and we sat with some really nice people, but they didn't have much to say.  It was awkward.

The bridal party finally graced us with their presence, and we could finally eat.  It was so quiet in the reception.  There were lots of empty tables.  People weren't talking much.  It was uncomfortable.  It also felt like a fake wedding, like the bride and groom knew they were supposed to do things, but then weren't really into it.  I was making lots of helpful comments like "When I get married, I'm going to do this.  At my wedding, it's not going to be like this."  I've pretty much decided to get married somewhere else so I don't have to bother much with inviting lots of people, or having a big party.  They can do whatever they want.  They can eat whatever they want.  They can drink whatever they want.  I'll be long gone on a steamy honeymoon with my husband!

 So we're going along in this supremely awkward reception, when word gets back to me about Short Skirt Girl.  It seems that Short Skirt Girl is an ice skater.  She seriously could break me in two with her legs.  She was tan, tall, and gorgeous.  And guess what?  One of two single ladies there.  The other one being ME.  But what do I care, right?  I was a little stressed about the whole "toss the bouquet" thing but the bride acted like she wasn't going to do it.  I was sitting at the table, minding my own business, when the DJ turned on a new song.  I knew what the song was from the first two notes.  It was "Single Ladies" by Beyonce.  Upon hearing those two notes, I knew what was coming.  I believe my reaction involved a few bad words, and the decision that I needed to go to the restroom, NOW.  As I bolted out the door, I heard the DJ call up all the single ladies to catch the bouquet.  When he said that, I heard the bride yell my name.  Call me a wuss if you must.  But it is humiliating enough to be forced to the front to catch the stupid bouquet.  But then, the TWO people up there were Hot Ice Skater Short Skirt Girl with the killer legs, or...me, in my pushup bra.  And did I mention that I can't catch to save my life?  I'm a total spaz.  So, I had a near miss.  I don't think my fragile self-esteem could have taken a wrestle with that ice skater for the bouquet.  I did make it back in time to see THE single guy catch the garter.  I think I am glad we weren't introduced.

The rest of the reception was uneventful.  It was a loser wedding, as I thought it would be.  And now, my conscience can rest easily knowing that I am no longer obligated to do anything out of pity for this girl!  If I told you some of the things she did, you'd be like "Why were you still even being nice to her?"  It's a curse.  I don't say no very well.

Then, on my way home, my dad, who was in the hospital at the time, called me and said "Do you want to come over and stay with me a while?"  I was already really far from the hospital, and it was really late.  I didn't go.  And I permanently cemented my place in the "Horrible Daughter Hall of Fame."  But hey.  I got to wear a push up bra.