Wedding eve

So, one of my dear friends is getting married today — which means it’s time to dust off the suit and brace for the shindig.

Ill love you forever ... or the next 5 minutes, whichever comes first ...

"I'll love you forever ... or the next 5 minutes, whichever comes first ..."

Now, I, like most men, loathe weddings. Not so much because folks are joining in wedded bliss. Not because I’m envious in any way, shape or form. Not because I have to step foot into a church and have to sit through a ceremony that’s entirely too long. Not even because I have to dress like a suit monkey (and if I ever get reincarnated back in time and meet the person who thought ties were a great idea, I’m punching them square in the face).

The thing I hate about weddings is when, at the reception, they decide to call out all the single folks onto the floor for that stupid little ritual where they throw the bouquet or toss the garter. And Lord help you if someone that knows you are single sees you not going up … they start trying to drag you up and the crowd admonishes you with that wail that signifies “Oooooooh, you’re a naughty person for trying to duck out of going out on the floor!”

People talk about “It’s tradition” and all that jazz. While I may be a traditional kind of guy, this is one that I opt not to follow.

Now, society always points the finger at the single person and says, “Oh, you must be so lonely! We must find you a mate so that you may live in bliss!” And yet, most married folks, if they get you alone, say the same thing about marriage — “Don’t.”

The joy of bachelordom.

The joy of bachelordom.

It’s not that I’m morally opposed to the idea. I’ve been close a couple times to the big M word. But to be honest, I’m a perpetual bachelor at heart. I like it that way. I get to do what I want, when I want. I can leave dirty dishes in the sink. I don’t get nagged. My home is peaceful and quiet. The only thing I miss is steady sex, but you know, even if you’re married, there’s no guarantee of that. I remember a comedian’s skit, and he talked about his buddy getting married. His buddy said, “Man, now that I’m getting married, I’m gonna get laid every night.” A few years later, the guy gets divorced, and he says, “Man, now that I’m single again, I’m gonna get laid every night.” So, all things considered, I’ll relish my bachelor bliss until such a time as I meet a worthy woman — and I’m not gonna be in a hurry about the whole situation.

So, this whole tradition of herding all the single people to the floor is a bit insulting to me. Oh sure, some say “Well, you can use it as an opportunity to scope out who’s single at the wedding and score, cause women are easy pickings at weddings!” Which, to a degree, is true. But you don’t need to be outted as single in order for any of that to happen.

 ... and shes single!

" ... and she's single!"

Really, I think it’s all a little game for someone’s needy, nebby and drunk aunt to play matchmaker. “Oh, he’s a handsome fella — when the garter toss is over, I’ll go introduce you, Brunhilda! You did brush both of your teeth, right?” Or when she approaches you — it’s always awkward and horrible — and you have to feign interest for a few minutes out of politeness to your friend’s family. And while she’s sitting back watching, relishing in her alleged matchmaking skills, you’re sitting there thinking “Holy hell! This person has 3 fucking teeth! How the fuck does that happen in this day and age?” Then you realize the aunt is talking to the DJ about putting on a slow song, which is your cue to say, “You’ll have to excuse me, I need to go to the restroom,” and you grab a beer and go hide for the next 5 minutes. Sure, you’re a coward — but you know if you don’t, all of your friends are going to take your picture with the 3-toothed girl and mock you for it later.

So, I have a little tradition of my own: When they start that little aspect of the reception, I grab a couple of beers and leave the area. Usually I can find other singles doing the exact same thing, and I start chatting with them. And what’s funny is that you’ll usually meet the “cooler,” more attractive single women there, and you know you have at least one thing in common — a singular hatred of being labeled “single” and being presented to every other person like a hunk of meat up for auction.

And hey, that’s a great place to start.


4 Responses to “Wedding eve”

  1. 1 Mike
    November 9, 2008 at 12:01 pm

    I agree, and was happy that they didn’t do that last night. maybe someone was reading?

  2. 2 Three
    November 9, 2008 at 12:18 pm

    Don’t think so — I’m sure she had everything planned out well in advance. But thank the gods she opted not to add that — it was nice not having to deal with it this time around.

  3. November 10, 2008 at 5:58 pm

    We did it at my wedding, I didn’t want to, but I did.

    So I did the typical redneck face plant up her dress and pulled the garter off with my teeth. Fuck it, it’s not like the thing is classy to begin with.

    Then they lined up all the single guys including this really nice retard guy. I mean retard too, not like, “someone who really enjoys reruns of Perfect Strangers” retarded, but actual retarded.

    So I turn my back and go to reverse-slingshot it at the crowd. You know. To be fair.

    BOING.No wati actually it was more like (boing). It went about 3 feet.

    Wouldn’t you know it. That retard was fassst.

    So he grabs it and everyone is telling me I did it wrong cause it didn’t go far enough. So there I am taking the garter off of the retard and doing it again and then someone else catches it and the retard starts crying.


    I hate that fucking tradition. Poor guy. First he’s retarded. Second he can’t even win a garter belt.

  4. 4 funkyskull
    November 12, 2008 at 2:39 am

    Yeah, we didn’t do this at our wedding either. I always hated it when I was single. HOWEVER, we were at a wedding this weekend, and they did it. We got to see a 60+ year-old lady dive like a beach volleyball player and do a face plant for the bouquet. Two hundred people gasped at once. Best. Bouquet. Toss. Ever.

    Also, I’ll see your necktie and raise you a pair of stilettos.

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