I was in a wedding this summer. I’m going to be in a wedding this weekend, and another next spring, and I guarantee you I’ll go to about 30 in between now and then. Every weekend, there’s some couple getting hitched. It’s always a good time, but DAMN YO. There’s traveling, there’s gift giving, there’s talking to people you’ve never met, there’s talking to people you never want to meet again, and there’s dancing with varying levels of appropriateness.
For all of the weddings I’ve been and will likely be in, I think I look really stupid.
So I realize how little control men have in these situations. If the bride wants tails and white gloves on the groomsmen, I’m going to be wearing tails and white gloves and a monocle (SHE CAN’T IMPAIR MY VISION!). And hey, maybe I myself will even be engaged to wed one day. Please attempt to stifle your laughter. You can get anything on the internet these days.
I know that if I ever do get married, I’ll have zero control of the situation. I mean, none. I could likely just show up day of and do about as well as I would if I were there through every day of it. The problem with all of that is that you ARE there through every day of it. And I’ll bet you get asked questions in which the answer doesn’t matter. “Hey, what do you think of this pattern for the dinner tables?” “Hmm, a little flowery don’t you think?” “Welp, this is what we’re using.” “Ooooooookay!”
Not to put the rickshaw before the lady, but I’ve already got a pretty full proof plan to not only stay fairly far away from the planning process, but also to leverage to get some things that I would want in my own wedding: Suggest the most ridiculous things possible. “What do you think about flowers? I was thinking maybe white roses and…” “CAKE! I want all of the flowers to be made of cake. Flowers are stupid anyway, LET’S MAKE THEM DELICIOUS!” “So I think my God-Daughter would make a fantastic flower girl, who do you think could be a ring bearer?” “I think we could have an open can of tuna fish at the altar, and let a team of cats drag the ring in like a chariot. They can be male cats, if you want.”
I can’t miss. This way whenever I give an actual, non-insane thought, like “I’d like a really simple tux. Just a length tie, full color, nothing flashy” I’ll look like a genius. Well, maybe not a genius, but definitely like a second grader who figures out a relatively easy Algebra problem. Sure, it’s an easy problem, BUT IT’S ALGEBRA! HOLY CRAP, HE’S WALKING ON WATER!
So the point of this whole thing is don’t make me wear bow ties or bow tie collars. Got it? GREAT.