No, the missing R is not a typo. Keep reading.
My wedding was almost 23 years ago (June 29, 1985, to be exact) and yet, of course there are parts of it I remember like it was yesterday.
I was 22, and so was the groom. I'd just graduated college, he was still figuring out where and what he wanted to be. My parents covered most of the cost without a quibble, and it was a nice, middle-of-the-road, working-class wedding. My dress cost a few hundred, but not a few thousand dollars. The reception was at the local American Legion hall with a buffet of fried chicken, mostacolli, and...ham..I think. The usual. The bar was included, but I remember it being hours into the reception before I managed to pause and get a drink--7-up because I was so thirstry from talking to everyone. The music was a disaster. Glenn's brother was supposed to bring the records for the dj to use (a college friend using Glenn's equipment)--and he forgot. So we basically had a few country ones I'd brought, the red and blue Beatles collections, and whatever cassette tapes people had in their cars. After the first half hour we all quit noticing.
My maid of honor hooked up with Glenn's best man (his brother and my best friend from high school) they were married a year later and are still together today. At their wedding another couple hooked up--and they're still together too. I'm not sure, but I think the chain continued from there. Weddings are nothing if not contagious. Another pair emerged from our wedding party--my cousin and Glenn's best friend. That one didn't last, much to my dismay. But as that friend eventually married one of my critique partners instead, I've forgiven him . (wink and a grin)
One of my big problems is that I tend to giggle at weddings. Truthfully, though I believe in the seriousness of marriage, I've never been very good at taking ANYTHING in life too seriously. Life is funny. Better to laugh than cry, right? So when one of my bridesmaids started sobbling LOUDLY, I was in trouble. Unfortunately we were lined up so I had a perfect line of eye contact with the groomsmen. And these were all my D & D buddies--my friends as well as Glenn's. This was bad. Three ushers and the bride up there on the stage trying desperately not to laugh.
And the piece-de-resistance? Glenn and I are both noted for being a bit--irreverent--at best. So imagine this sequence: my father gives me away and takes his seat. I take the groom's hand. Together, we take that first step onto the stage....
The single clap of thunder that was heard all day went off.
Our friends demanded to know how we arranged this.
I thought the minister was going to wet his pants.
Fortunately, he collected himself enough to marry us anyway, and after 23 years, I'd have to say it took. Can't imagine being with anyone else. And I REALLY can't imagine the nightmare of having to DATE again at my age. Besides, no one else would know all the inside jokes.