Illustration found at Young and Restless
Weddings have certainly evolved over the past fifteen years where the simple concept of dinner and dancing is deemed too casual. Invitations now have detailing parallel to interior design, limos are replaced with Bentleys and party buses, the food options are so abundant that you have already eaten four courses before your appetizer arrives and entrances are more than walking in and saying hello with a modest wave
The reception was beautiful, Kitty covered all details from the flowers, the linens to the lighting and looked absolutely stunning in a couture, off-the-shoulder draped gown with delicate feather trim.
After the bridal party afternoon of mimosas and primping, photos, the mass, the party bus to the reception hall in Brooklyn and cocktail hour the reception was finally starting. By this point, I was exhausted and all I wanted to do was to sit down for ten minutes with a tall glass of water to regain my energy.
I was heading to the banquet room with the other guests to sneak to my table when I was stopped by said man whom I learned was the MC and who was using our bridesmaids dresses as a tracking device to bark out instructions. He stopped me at the door and had me line up with the rest of the bridal party pairing us up with the men who we had walked down the aisle with for something called introductions. Introductions, I forgot that this is a staple in New York weddings where the MC introduces each member of the bridal party to the other guests like were on a game show. I hate this tradition, not because I have problem being introduced to a crowd of strangers, I just have a sneaking suspicion that no one gives a shit who I am. I can imagine that the forced merriment only makes it worse. They guests are there for the bride, groom and the booze. Not us assholes.
My partner who overall was a nice guy asked me what we were doing for our grand entrance. What were we doing? What did he mean? What more was there to do than walk out? "When we go out and have the MC announce us, what are we going to do?" he asked me again. "I don't understand the question." I honestly answered. It was true, I didn't understand it. I thought it was simple, we're announced, we go out with contrived energy, smile, a few claps and proceed to our table, right? Apparently not.
As I was explaining my ration to my partner or the fact that I was unaware that we were supposed to provide entertainment, I looked around and saw that the other bridesmaids were 'rehearsing' their entrance with their partners. Some girls were being twirled by their partners, another was wearing her partners tie while he was wearing her necklace while he fist-pumped around her in a circle, one girl had climbed on to the back of her partner while swinging her arm with an imaginary lasso, another couple was practicing the fox trot and I swear I heard someone say the word cartwheel. Holy shit. I looked at my partner who was clearly disappointed that he got stuck with me; the dud partner who was useless to the bridal party.
"Ok, let me make this simple," he said trying desperately to get me to understand, "The last girl I did introductions with came out to the banquet hall alone like she was a supermodel and stood in front of the guests with her hip cocked out with hand rested on it, then I came out, she saw me and smacked me in the face," he continued with heightened glee, "So I walked away like I was defeated and then at the last minute, I turned around on my heels, ran and belly flopped on the floor, through her legs and her dress and started palpitating on the floor while the girl stepped over me! It was awesome!" So he wanted me to look like a complete bitch who didn't care that he was going into cardiac arrest in front of the entire reception hall at my best friend's wedding? I looked at him and said "I'm not doing that."
Feeling bad and wanting to be an enthusiastic participant in Kitty's wedding I came up with a compromise that I thought my partner would appreciate. Really. "Let's go out like flesh-eating zombies and pretend that you haven't eaten a victim in weeks and attack me and then we'll bust into the Thriller dance!" I said with feigned excitement trying to meet him at his level. He looked at me as if I had asked him to go out there and pull my tampon out with his teeth in front of everyone. "Why would we do that?" he asked me with his head tilted to the side in confusion.
Due to our lack of compromise, our entrance consisted of my partner wearing sunglasses, solo-moshing and head-banging while holding my hand which in turn had me flailing around the dance floor as I tried to look like I was having the time of my life but really looked like a confused bitch (so he sort of got his way). Why couldn't we just go out there, smile and clap? Are wedding so over the top now that even walking into a room with a smile is considered old-fashioned and dull? Or maybe I'm old-fashioned and dull? I don't know anymore.
"Yo, that French girl is weird." I overheard my partner's friend say to him as I walked by during coffee hour. This made me chuckle. Clearly this was coming out of the mouth of someone who has never been to France. While I can admit to being a weirdo, anyone who knows French culture would know that I am light years away from being mistaken for a French girl and would have appreciated if he left France out of his insult that was directed towards me.
I'm happy to say that the first wave of important weddings are over and it's officially the holidays. I'm going back to bed. Wake me in 2012?
