|Small sonic screwdriver. Not massive hand.|
There's a good indication of the way to my heart somewhere in there.
Anyway, yesterday I attended the first wedding in a very strange sequence of two in fairly rapid sequence. That is to say, I attended the last part of the day. By the time I got there, the wedding was all done, and the gathering afterwards incredibly well-established.
I've been friends with the bridegroom for a longer period of time than I've known 47, so evidently there's a lot of history there. I'd like to think I'm quite close to him as well, although he didn't actually invite me to the first bit of the reception - space and all that, or he just couldn't fit me in so much - but I was very pleased with the invitation. I was less pleased with the £33 it took me to get to the venue, as it was out in that mythical land known as Essex. Mind you, it was still a very pretty little house, clearly established purely for wedding receptions as it had signs requesting you not to throw confetti too vigorously around the place (which makes me wonder what happened to necessitate their asking that).
What I don't like about weddings is the general milling about, and there is always rather a lot of this, not least for the first hour or so after I turned up - although there was free ice cream, and Robinson was there along with my friend-who-is-a-teacher and my friend-who-is-a-midwife, so I didn't feel too lost. I was clearly in the minority by not having attended the same school as EVERYONE ELSE IN THE VENUE, but I held my nerve and walked around until I found the groom to give him a best wishes card.
He looked happy, but then again, he always looks happy. His bride, who I like mostly on account of the fact that she has a James album, also looked happy, which was rather more of a relief. As a hot day gradually melted into a hot evening and the traditional first dance was over (the DJ seemed a little put-off after he yelled for couples to join them, and none did), we queued up for some much-needed food (well, I needed it; according to Robinson, those who had already been there all day didn't really need any more food). I was joined in the queue by an old acquaintance of mine who I haven't seen since school.
"Hey!" she said. "Are you queuing up for food?"
"Evidently," I said, "as this is the food queue. You all right?"
"Yeah, good. Are you looking forward to the hog roast?"
I fixed her with a quizzical stare. "Oh, yeah," I drawled. "I'm totally looking forward to the hog roast. I mean, that's just the sort of food I'd go for with a bang, isn't it?"
She blinked vacantly a couple of times. "Are you a vegetarian?" she gaped after a while.
"I've been a vegetarian since I was nine," I reminded her. You'd think this is the sort of thing she'd remember, considering we used to eat together at least once a week.
A few hours later and after a few servings of limp bean burger and French bread plus cake with Mario figures on it (by far the coolest wedding cake I've ever seen), I Gotta Feeling drifted through the air, at which my friend-who-is-a-nurse, who I hadn't expected to be attending since she was supposed to be rehearsing her own wedding, insisted that we must, we must, we absolutely must get onto the dance floor. This basically dictated the rest of the evening, although two hours of dancing in blistering heat was slightly outdone by a conga line started by the groom, who decided that holding onto the bride's train was probably a good idea.
By the time midnight rolled around and the venue looked like the aftermath of the Hunger Games, the survivors gratefully staggered out into the cool midnight air and exchanged pleasantries, both bride and groom looking well chuffed, innit.
As I clambered gratefully into the back of Robinson's car I wondered if I felt a bit left out of things. As it had turned out earlier in the day, I wasn't actually needed at work (although I didn't know this), so I could have gone to the actual ceremony earlier - but I wouldn't have been able to attend the dinner in the afternoon, so there's that. The atmosphere was buzzing with stories of amusing things which had happened earlier on, and I felt slightly mollified that I'd missed out on all that. But, as I reasoned a little later on, this wasn't a day about me. It was about my friend and his new wife. And I was pretty pleased I'd made it at all, to be honest.
Young love in the blistering heat... now there's a romance novel title.