Weddings - Breaking It All Down

Weddings are so predictable. Yeah, yeah, there's the usual, "Do you take this woman, do you take this man, you may now kiss the bride, are you sure you want to go through with this, etc.". But there's also many other things that you can count on...

For instance, the stress factor increases the minute I start getting ready for a wedding. Although I have about twenty pairs of dress pants, five or six suits, several blazers/sport-coats and countless dress shirts, I am always faced with the same last minute dilemma:  nothing fits! This revelation always causes me to go into a momentary state of depression as my usual excuse of "the dryer must be shrinking my clothes" goes out the window.

So, I go through the ritual of trying on endless combinations of skin tight outfits. I narrow the selection down to the ones that don't completely cut off my circulation. Eventually, I settle on the one that allows me to breathe with the least amount of pain.

Even my shoes are uncomfortably tight! How does that happen? I feel like I'm going through a Chinese foot binding ritual as a gingerly walk out to my car. I'm seriously concerned that my feet will be completely numb by the time I get to the wedding. Have you ever tried to brake a mid-size sedan with numb feet?

Once I get to the wedding facility, I hear the women saying, "Let's sit up front, so we can see." It's as if Mick Jagger and the boys are getting ready to hit the stage. Settle down ladies, I'm sure wherever you sit, you're going to be able to see.

Once the bride and groom roll down the aisle, the women will start with, "Aw, doesn't she look beautiful? Isn't that dress just gorgeous?" Meanwhile, I'm fully engaged in conversation with the guys about whether there will be an open bar at the reception.

When we finally get to the reception, the women turn the critiquing completely around. Instead of complimenting the bride's dress, they now focus their attention on the "inappropriate" wedding clothes of the other female guests.

"Oh, my God. Can you believe she's wearing that? She's practically hanging out of it. The only thing missing is a stripper pole!"

To add fuel to the fire, the guys are all huddled together with their tongues hanging out as Miss Pole Dancer strolls onto center stage then proceeds to wiggle and jiggle to the bass line of Brick House. Yeah, she was definitely lettin' it all hang out.

As the party swings into high gear, the dance floor becomes populated with a group of line dancers. I try to avoid this at all costs. Several years ago, someone roped me into to doing the Electric Slide. By the time we got to the second verse, at least five people were writhing in pain as a result of my big ass crashing into them. In the name of public safety, no more line dancing for me!

And it's inevitable that the DJ will play at least one stupid ass song like The Hokey-Pokey or The Chicken Dance. And what's up with that song Da Butt? Yeah, that one. Is it really an appropriate song to play in front of Aunt Mildred? And just when you think it can't get any more uncomfortable, the DJ cues up Strokin' by the illustrious Clarence Carter.

And it drives me nuts when they play Buster Poindexter's Hot, Hot, Hot and then encourage everyone to conga out to the parking lot. People may think I'm a dick for not participating, but I refuse to risk spilling my beer for such a worthless cause.

During the course of the reception, you'll always run into people you haven't seen in years. Then you're bombarded with 101 questions. I'm seriously thinking about typing up a bio and handing it to everyone who hits me with the mother of all open-ended questions......"So, what have ya been up to?" I figure they can catch up on the past ten years of my life while I grab another beer.

As the reception nears the end, the plan for the after-party begins. Now, when I was younger, I would look forward to round two. But nowadays, an afternoon of partying only makes me look forward to a couple of Tylenol PM's and a cozy bed.

So, I wish the happy couple the best and make my way out. But before I can get through the lobby, I'm confronted by several friends and my sister-in-law (we affectionately refer to her as "the pusher") who insist that I join them at the after party.

How can I say no to friends and family?? Oh well, maybe I'll just go for one more drink........:-)

kw