The Mark of Zorro!
I went to my friend Chris's wedding yesterday. I've known Chris for 15 years, and it's a trip to see him settling down and settling in. We both grew up in Portland and now live in Los Angeles, and he's been with his now wife off and on for ten years. I'm happy they've decided to make it permanent, and I hope they have a great honeymoon.
The wedding itself was a lot of fun. I've known Chris for over half my life, but many of his friends are complete strangers to me. This would be off putting, if it weren't for the fact that as I was sitting next to some of them they were asking for the scores to the games going on that day. I'm just not a sports kind of person. He and I have always hung out and watched movies and that's the way I like it. If I had gotten laid it would have been similar to that movie about guys who crash weddings to get laid, you know Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but that didn't happen. What did happen was I tore the dance floor a new one, dancing with old ladies and one of the ringbearers. You know you've got the moves when the band's all like "yeah, that dude!" By the time I left I was a mess of sweat, and had I maybe worked harder, or had the festivities gone later than four in the afternoon perchance it would have been more like that film. Alas.
I did catch the garter. Most of the men were unenthusiastic about this part of the ritual, and when it was flung near me, I stuck out my hand and got it, mostly because if I hadn't, it would have hit the floor. Perhaps that would have been funny, but also it would have seemed rude. I got my moments in with Chris, and I was on the phone with my mom for a moment, and Chris talked to her, which was nice, and she told me she had to euthanize her dog Musa. A strange confluence. Chris and drank some whiskey, and I have to say it was one of the most loose and fun weddings I've been to. That's what happens when you have the priest quote Boy George, I guess.