Wedding Time
By: KK
Copyright@ 2001

I'm getting married!

My parents were a little stunned. I am pretty sure that they will get over the fact that I have only known the guy for 6 months and that he will be off parole soon. Mom just needed a little oxygen and she quickly regained consciousness. Dad put his fist through the wall but my new groom is good with plaster. Something he learned in prison.

The date is set for a month from now. Seems reasonable, since by then I will only be three months pregnant and my belly won't be showing yet. The guest list will be about 600 of our closest family and friends. Oops! Make that 360. I forgot that the inmates won't be able to make it. That cuts the invitation cost in half. Those beautifully, engraved and printed pieces of paper, that will end up contributing to our overpopulated dumps, will now only cost Dad about $1800. Mom was a little peeved about the invitations. She thought that purple and green were a little garish. I had to explain that it was lavender and teal. I think she is color blind.

After picking my maid of honor from my nine best friends, I am now down to five best friends. I had to pick the one that was screwing the best man. It just looks better that way. They are all starting to get on my nerves a little. I want the satin lavender dresses with the 6" teal ruffles. Floor length, off the shoulder and absolutely flattering. I hardly think that $650 a dress is too expensive. For Christ's sake haven't they saved any money??

The girls are color blind too.

"Purple is just not flattering on me!" complains a soon to be ex-bridesmaid.

It is lavender and of course it is not flattering on you. You weigh 330 pounds. You look like a fucking grape! And it's MY wedding so no one will be looking at you anyway.

"Don't worry sweetie, everything looks beautiful on you!" I gush and lie.

She accepts the lavender dress under the condition that I "shorten" her ruffles. Pig.

The maid of honor has decided that her dress should stand out from everyone else's.

"I want solid green, silk, tea length and no ruffles, they make me look fat." she sweetly states.

Bitch! Who does she think she is? The color is teal! You weigh 80 pounds. Strapping bologna to your ass couldn't make you look any fatter and you will look like the other girls. I am the star here!

"I understand honey, but I just really like the whole "matching" thing," I purr.

She obliges and huffs off. I am really not liking her attitude.

Mom insists that I wear Grandma's floor length lace gown. First of all Grandma is 150 years old and her dress has been passed down since the early 1500's. It has resided in the attic, with the moths for the last 130 years and it looks like a tablecloth. Second of all, Grandma is blind and she won't know the difference.

"Thanks Mom, but I would really like to start a new tradition."

Mom is pouting. The bitch didn't wear Grandma's dress to her own wedding! Why the hell does she want me to wear that ancient piece of trash? We are off for a fitting!

I had never seen smoke come out of Dad's nose before. It wasn't very attractive and he scared the crap out of the bridal shop employees when he went postal. My parents are so damn selfish. $12,459 is not too much for their little girls dress. They will just have to take out a second mortgage on the house, sell the car or take a second job. This is not my problem and they should have been saving for this occasion.

Groomy-pie is acting a little stand-offish lately. He said he thought he was getting cold feet. I told him that had better set some fucking hot briquets under those little tootsies of his or I would be happy to amputate them and roll him down the aisle in a wheel chair. He will be there. I have worked way too hard for this day!
It's bad enough that his side of the family can't even have enough class to fly. They booked a family fare on Greyhound from Oklahoma. Of course having a Greyhound bus parked next to our limo will not be the least bit embarrassing. Damn rednecks.

Oh, what a beautiful day! The sun is shining and the birds are singing...fucking birds, don't they know I have a hangover from the bachelorette party from the night before. Somebody sling shot them. Mom insists that I eat breakfast or I will faint during the ceremony. I firmly explain that I haven't not eaten in two weeks, I have no intentions of eating until after the ceremony and that I will fit into my size -2 dress. Kindly get the hell out of my face.

If Mom adjusts something that is attached to my body one more time, I will choke her. The girls are only a half hour late and I should have let that stupid maid of honor have the teal dress it would have matched nicely with her green complexion from her hangover! Someone please stop the flower girl from crying. It wasn't my fault that I had to hot glue the damn flowers to her hair, she kept taking them off.

Someone please stop Dad from crying. He looks like an idiot. One last look in the mirror. Damn, I'm beautiful!
I had to hold Dad up all the way down the aisle. Apparently he had attended the bachelor party the night before. Groomy-pie looks mighty sexy in that tux...whoo-hoo I am getting laid tonight! I would have expected the guests to show a little more patience. All the sighs and checking their watches was enough to make me scream. My God, the ceremony was only two hours long. They acted like it lasted all day. Damn rednecks.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride!" announces the preacher.

I hiss under my veil to my new hubby, "You tongue me or smear my lipstick and I will cause you bodily harm!"

He gently pecked me on the cheek and off to the reception we went.

I thought that since Mom was so far up my ass planning my (I mean "her") wedding, that I would give her the job of finding a band. It would keep her busy and it was a simple job. Apparently not. I knew I was in trouble when I noticed the band was called "Five Easy Pieces". Was this a fucking jigsaw puzzle or a band? Five Easy Pieces consisted of five easy instruments. A flute, a zylophone, a harp, a harmonica and drums. I think NOT!
The next ceremony we plan will be Mom's funeral. We will bury her in Grandmas wedding dress. I am now fairly certain that it was my family that got off the Greyhound parked outside.

After an hour of Yanni music, we woke the guests for all the traditional crap that we are supposed to do at the reception. We thanked the free-loaders for coming and for the gifts, grabbed the cards with money and made our grand exit.

Weddings are a rip-off. I spent a shit load of money to entertain people that I haven't seen since infancy or have never even met. I fed them, entertained them, got them drunk and they brought me a cheap gift that I have to return. I will never see these people again and the only reason I invited them is because I thought they would give a cash gift. I noted it on the invitations but I was unaware that the rednecks didn't have the attention span to read the bold print at the top.

After the divorce. I will be eloping with hubby number 2.
 

Readers Respond

I must admit--you are a sarcastic, bitchy woman after my own heart! You
are like my evil, Caucasian twin, LOL. I happened upon your site while
looking for links for my wedding site. I was looking for "Etiquette Hell"
at first; typed in "weddings+hell" at Yahoo, and came up with your "A
Wedding Tale" page. Could not stop laughing. Loved the sarcasm. In turn,
I'm inviting you to check out my journal when you get the chance
(http://web.archive.org/web/20030424010345/http://bookerbrown.com/Journal.htm  ).
I had a lot of drama during the wedding planning, and knowing me, people
couldn't wait to see what I would post after the smoke cleared. So, there
it is. Just wanted to give you a holla.
Peace,
Vonetta Booker-Brown