WeddingsAttending a wedding is like being handed a licence to act like a twat. Oh how I laughed when I sobered up and realised I'd nicked most of the plates and cutlery from the posh hotel lunch and those vague memories of stealthily exiting like a cat-burglar had in-fact involved falling out of the hotel, knives and forks clattering onto the steps.
Tell us your wedding stories.
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chthonic, Thu 14 Jul 2005, 15:19)
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My Own WeddingWhere should I start with my wedding story? Well how about starting with the fact that most of the arrangements were made without me even knowing - or that up until 5 weeks before the ceremony I was still none the wiser. Now I know that must sound pretty odd but My Darling was a Divorcee and had said on plenty of occasions she was 'Never Getting Married Again' and I gamely took her at her word.
Of course she changed her mind but rather than gently dropping hints so that I would ask her she decided that we were going to get married and my asking her or even knowing about it was an inconsequential detail. She arranged a venue with her sister being her agent in that aspect (yeah even she and her husband knew before me); she then got me to sign the marriage application (we were getting hitched abroad). She had asked me to sign this document without asking what it was - she had even cut holes in sheets of paper so I could only see where I was signing and none of the rest of it. I had assumed it was an insurance waiver for an attraction we were visiting. How wrong I was.
It was only when I became suspicious of her running errands on her way home from work (buying the rings and dress) and phone conversations with her sister that seemed to dry up when I was in the room that she decided to 'fess up. We were sitting watching TV one day when she dropped a small box into my lap. I looked at her and she told me to open it up. Inside were 2 wedding rings – I looked at her "Are we getting married?" - "Yes" - In retrospect my response was not as eloquent as I would have liked - "Cool".
She admitted later that had I not become suspicious she would have dropped the bombshell on me only days before the ceremony whilst we were 3000 miles from home and staying with my soon-to-be in-laws – No pressure then!
The stag do was a hastily arranged affair involving a lovely strip club, a joke about where to swipe the credit card and my father-in-law falling asleep surrounded by naked ladies.
Almost a year on and we are still blissfully happy.
I’ve never apologised for length and I’m not starting now.
(, Tue 19 Jul 2005, 19:36, Reply)
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