Getting Hitched? Don’t Invite Me; I’m, Uh, Uh, in Northern Alaska

July 27, 2013 by Gary Davis  
Published in Weddings

Do you get the drift?

I don’t like weddings. I don’t like anybody’s wedding. Why? Most of the people who invite me don’t care about me. I envision the prospective bride and groom scratching their collective heads on whom to invite to fatten the “present booty”.

There are seven basic areas which create an obstacle course of endurance that must be completed.
First, is the outlay for a present. I know you are always second guessing whether or not you should give cash or a present. Usually you opt for a present since the price typically is unknown. Of course you may have to make a trip where the couple is “registered” in which case I reserve the right to change my obstacle course to eight rough areas.

Next is the hassle of decent dress. You must be clean and crisp and speaking for myself, I don’t keep a lot of “dress-up” clothes on hand so, that becomes a hassle.

Now, Saturdays are very often the wedding day. That is a weekend day! One of my days off! Pain number three.

Then there is the actual wedding. While this is one hassle, it can have different levels. It can be just the basic ceremony which you understand; it can be a religious ceremony you don’t understand or, either type, when the bride and groom write their own vows. To put it nicely, written vows give me an upset stomach.
O.K., the wedding is over. Now you get to wait while the wedding party takes a lifetime worth of pictures. The wait is excruciating.

Well, we’re getting close to the end but first you have to wade through some of the worst food ever cooked, not to mention putting up with some pretty obnoxious drunks.

The worst insult though, is a pretty recent creation known as the “dollar dance” which means every male within a thousand mile radius dances with the bride. There are different versions such as putting the buck in a little purse she carries or, pinning it on her gown. Frankly though it has evolved to the point that if you just give a buck you’re thought of us cheap. You’d better cough up a sawbuck or a fin.

I always shut my eyes when I take the mail out of the mailbox. If I feel a small envelope; I break into a cold sweat.

Perhaps from now on I’ll “return to sender” with a note; “I’m not here anymore.” Wait a minute, that won’t work.

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