Confetti, Wedding Bells and Swollen Bellends

That's a mighty fine looking bush you have there.

Ahh, weddings, a time for laughter, a time for romance, a time for acting at least ten times classier than you really are. And for most people, a time for being on time. But I am not most people. Nope, I'm more like a fucking wedding-ruining cyborg developed by mad but undoubtedly lonely love-hating scientists. As a result, my boyfriend and I rocked up at the church a full fifteen minutes later than we were supposed to. Luckily for us, the bride was also running late herself so the doors were still open. Unluckily for us, when the Priest saw a cab pulling up directly out front, he naturally assumed the Bride had finally arrived and told the organist to start playing. Consequently, I had to enter the church of a wedding that was NOT MY OWN and totter awkwardly down the aisle while the organist played, 'Here Comes The Bride' and the guests stood and turned to look, before tutting and sitting back down again. Even for me, that's pretty damn ridiculous.

After a glory-stealing start, the real bride finally arrived (although not before the groom had managed to work up a really nice cold sweat) and the service got going. I haven’t been to a church wedding for some time and I forgot about all the praying and hymn singing you have to do. This was a little uncomfortable for my boyfriend and I, given that we don’t know any hymn’s because we are dirty non-church-going sinners. I just had to hope nobody was paying attention as the cheeky bastard late-comers mouthed silently, “Words and more words and Jeeeessusss soooommmeeethiiiiing.” If God was watching I’m pretty sure we just definitively made his Naughty List. Hymn awkwardness aside, the service was beautiful. Although, I've realised I’ve got a bit of a strange fixation on the part where they say, "With my body I honour you." There's something really enjoyable about watching two people subtly make reference to stuffin' the muffin in front of their parents and grandparents. Teeheheee, I’m an adult.

All aboard the Knight Bus, pip pip, cheerio, lads

After the church service the guests all hopped aboard the incredibly British Wedding Bus (which was probably used in at least one Harry Potter movie) to the garden party reception. Man-servants in waistcoats buzzed around handing out champagne and calling me “Miss” as I made immature garden puns to concerned looking strangers. Despite the rough start, the socialising was going pretty well, right up until some tiny but inherently evil woman decided to ask why my boyfriend and I weren’t married. Just a heads up married people, that is not an okay thing to ask total strangers! ‘Are you married?’ - Fine. ‘Why aren’t you married?’ - Not so much! And it’s particularly unacceptable to refuse to drop the subject when the people you're talking to look uncomfortable. LEARN TO READ THE ROOM, ASSHOLE!

Here’s how far this woman took it:

      Her: Are you guys married?
      Us: Nope.
      Her: Why not?
      Us: Erm… that seems… inappropriate.
      Her: Have you not talked about marriage?
      Us: Er... no... well... wait-.
      Her: Don’t you think you should have?

This woman was like the fucking Terminator of wedding guest botherers and I found myself feeling genuinely defensive about my marital status. Luckily, my boyfriend is not so easily fazed and he leaned forward and said, “We've only been together 18 months, it’s a little soon for that.” But he said it in such a blunt and scathing tone that he explicitly implied, “That is the end of this conversation, or else you will receive a kick in the snatch.” Ahhh, my hero. 

The food came, was awesome and was quickly scoffed. The speeches were cool, the Groom’s was practically a drinking game as he asked us to raise a toast to; the parents of the bride (sip), the canon who performed the ceremony (sip), the photographer (sip), family (sip sip), friends (sip sip), guests who’ve travelled from afar (sip), the caterers (sip), the band (sip sip), the dj (sip) and of course his beautiful bride (gulp). By the end of that I was shit-faced and ready to throw some shapes but I had to wait until after the first dance, which was the usual sickening lovey-dovey bullshit... (I kid, it was totes classy).

Not just for keeping keys together...

The rest of the evening was a blur of wine refills, God awful dancing and chatting drunken nonsense. Although I do remember one last thing. As a Tarantino fan, I was pretty upset to have missed the chance to twist to 'You Never Can Tell' by Chuck Berry BUT at the time it was playing, I was engrossed in conversation with a Fireman who was telling me all about this one time when he got called out to a hospital with bolt cutters to remove a small, metal ring from the person of an elderly gentleman. Remove? From where? Come on folks, I think we all know. Do you really need me to say, explicitly, that this poor, wizened old man got a metal ring stuck around the base of his poor, wizened old penis and that it was so swollen that it looked more like an aubergine than a dick? Great, now you've totally ruined the whole tone of my beautiful wedding post.