Aww - Twue Wove
Every wedding is a little odd in its own way, but the matrimonial ceremony the Lovely Mrs. G. and I attended Saturday night may very well take the (wedding) cake.
My friend (the bride) Robin and I used to work together at The Mouse. We worked pretty well together, and being the practical jokers we both are, we had a lot of fun in between singing Disney songs. Robin was divorced a few years ago, after her husband literally left her and their four girls in the middle of the night for some bimbo he met online. Scuzzbag.
Anyway, time marches on, and in a romantically ironic twist, Robin met Robert through eHarmony.com (what do you know – it really does work!), and the next thing you know, they’re engaged.
Of course, we didn’t know any of this – Mrs. G. and I hadn’t seen Robin in almost a year. But in late August we received an invitation to their wedding. Surprise, surprise – we’re goin’ to a hitching!
So Saturday night came, and off Mrs. G., Miss Katie, and I went to the chapel. Being an evening wedding as it was, we assumed it would be at least semi-formal, so I put on my suit and a tie and my ladies put on dresses. I don’t wear my suit all that often, but what the heck – it’s a wedding, it deserved a little bit of civility.
We show up in the lobby of the church, say hi to a few former CM friends we haven’t seen in several years, then go over to sign the guest book. We then saw the girl passing out the announcements.
Her name is Sarah, and she’s the daughter of one of my other Mouse friends. The last time I saw Sarah, she was all of 12 years old, about 4 feet tall, and a gawky little pre-teen.
Not any more. Now 17, Sarah has grown up, filled out, and apparently decided that a mini-skirt the width of a Band-Aid and a rainbow-striped tube top was appropriate wedding attire.
Yikes. It was like Four Weddings and a Stripper.
Getting past the shock of seeing Little Sarah all grown up and showing it off to the world, we went and found a pew on the left side.
It was then while looking around at the other guests it dawned on us – we were just about the only people dressed up. Miss Katie leaned over to Mrs. G. and I and said, “I think I’m a little overdressed.” She wasn’t kidding. Just about everyone was in jeans and casual shirts. I was the only guy there in a suit.
Maybe Sarah's “Deliver Me From Beyonce’s Closet” wardrobe choice wasn’t that out of place after all. Did we miss something in the invitation that said “come as you are?”
Fortunately, there was a little decorum left, because the groom and his attendants showed up in tuxes. Thank God!
The ceremony started promptly at 7:00, lead by Robin’s four girls, who are now 13, 17, 19, and 21. Robin them came down the aisle in a beautiful pink wedding dress with a long train, looking very happy.
Now, I told you early on this was one of the strangest weddings I’ve ever been to, and I promise you we’re getting to the strange part... right now.
For it was the minister who made it so odd.
First thing, as Robin was passed from the groom father (who’d walked her down the aisle) to her groom, the minister dropped his bible and all of his papers. Seriously – about 20 sheets of paper went flying everywhere. So in front of a wedding party of 12 people, here’s the minister crawling around the floor, retrieving papers.
Trying to compose himself, he then began to speak.
How do I best describe it? It was like this...
Have you ever seen the movie “The Princess Bride”? Do you remember the minister in the film?
The Impressive Clergyman: Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam...
[cut to Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik]
The Impressive Clergyman: And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva...
[cut to the trio again]
The Impressive Clergyman: So tweasure your wuv.
I’m serious. This is EXACTLY what he sounded like.
I couldn’t look over at Mrs. G., because I was deadly afraid I’d burst into laughter at any moment. (I also secretly hoped that Dread Pirate Roberts would show up, just to make things interesting.)
So from this point on, Robin and Robert were referred to as “Wobin and Wobbet.” (Well, almost. Keep reading, and I’ll explain.)
So the minister began his mini-wedding sermon, but told the oddest story. It started with this line:
“When your mawwiage gets stuck, get help.”
Huh? WTF does that mean?
He then proceeded to explain. When he was a young man, he and his brother had worked on a nearby farm. They took the tractor out one day, and got it stuck in the soft dirt. But instead of getting help, he tried backing it up and pulling forward, hoping to free it. Long story short (too late), he buried it up to its axle. So he and his brother went back to the barn, got a second tractor, and tried to use it to pull tractor #1 out. Even longer story short (again: too late), they buried that one too. Oops.
He then wrapped up the totally-unrelated-to-marriage analogy with “So when you get stuck in your mawwiage, get help. Amen.”
AMEN??? To THAT???
Okay, we’re moving on. They did the wings (sorry – I meant “rings”), they did their vows, and a lovely singer sang a Frank Sinatra song.
He then told the gwoom to kiss his bride. Everyone awwwed, and then clapped. All good.
The happy newlyweds then turned to face the audience/crowd/whatever we were, and the minister topped his strange wedding with this line:
“Wadies and Gentlemen, let me intwoduce Mister and Missus...”
Long pause.
“Uhhh...”
HE FORGOT THEIR NAMES!
The groom turns around and whispers “Robert”.
The minister smiles wide. “Oh, yeah – Mister and Missus Robert... Uh...”
HOLY CRAP – HE DID IT AGAIN!
By now just about everyone in the wedding party is yelling their names to the minister (while the rest of us laugh). And by golly – he does manage to get their last name out, too – eventually.
It was over – 17 minutes after it started. A weally, weally, stwange evening.
Later that evening at the reception, Robin came by and sat at our table for a minute. Here she was – a blushing bride, looking resplendent in her beautiful down, full of post-wedding bliss.
She looked across the table at Mrs. G. and I, smiled wide, and said, “He fucking forgot our names.”
She then got up, walked over to another table, and from the look on the faces there, I assume she said the same thing to them.
She did this for the next 5 minutes – going from table to table, staying about 30 seconds, and sharing a laugh about a ceremony they’ll never, ever forget. I know I won’t.
I really hope that someday you’ll see Wobin and Wobbet’s wedding video on “America’s Funniest Home Videos” – I’d vote for her to win the $100,000 bucks.
I just hope she won’t have to split any royalties to the producers of The Princess Bride.
Ain’t twue wove gwand?
My friend (the bride) Robin and I used to work together at The Mouse. We worked pretty well together, and being the practical jokers we both are, we had a lot of fun in between singing Disney songs. Robin was divorced a few years ago, after her husband literally left her and their four girls in the middle of the night for some bimbo he met online. Scuzzbag.
Anyway, time marches on, and in a romantically ironic twist, Robin met Robert through eHarmony.com (what do you know – it really does work!), and the next thing you know, they’re engaged.
Of course, we didn’t know any of this – Mrs. G. and I hadn’t seen Robin in almost a year. But in late August we received an invitation to their wedding. Surprise, surprise – we’re goin’ to a hitching!
So Saturday night came, and off Mrs. G., Miss Katie, and I went to the chapel. Being an evening wedding as it was, we assumed it would be at least semi-formal, so I put on my suit and a tie and my ladies put on dresses. I don’t wear my suit all that often, but what the heck – it’s a wedding, it deserved a little bit of civility.
We show up in the lobby of the church, say hi to a few former CM friends we haven’t seen in several years, then go over to sign the guest book. We then saw the girl passing out the announcements.
Her name is Sarah, and she’s the daughter of one of my other Mouse friends. The last time I saw Sarah, she was all of 12 years old, about 4 feet tall, and a gawky little pre-teen.
Not any more. Now 17, Sarah has grown up, filled out, and apparently decided that a mini-skirt the width of a Band-Aid and a rainbow-striped tube top was appropriate wedding attire.
Yikes. It was like Four Weddings and a Stripper.
Getting past the shock of seeing Little Sarah all grown up and showing it off to the world, we went and found a pew on the left side.
It was then while looking around at the other guests it dawned on us – we were just about the only people dressed up. Miss Katie leaned over to Mrs. G. and I and said, “I think I’m a little overdressed.” She wasn’t kidding. Just about everyone was in jeans and casual shirts. I was the only guy there in a suit.
Maybe Sarah's “Deliver Me From Beyonce’s Closet” wardrobe choice wasn’t that out of place after all. Did we miss something in the invitation that said “come as you are?”
Fortunately, there was a little decorum left, because the groom and his attendants showed up in tuxes. Thank God!
The ceremony started promptly at 7:00, lead by Robin’s four girls, who are now 13, 17, 19, and 21. Robin them came down the aisle in a beautiful pink wedding dress with a long train, looking very happy.
Now, I told you early on this was one of the strangest weddings I’ve ever been to, and I promise you we’re getting to the strange part... right now.
For it was the minister who made it so odd.
First thing, as Robin was passed from the groom father (who’d walked her down the aisle) to her groom, the minister dropped his bible and all of his papers. Seriously – about 20 sheets of paper went flying everywhere. So in front of a wedding party of 12 people, here’s the minister crawling around the floor, retrieving papers.
Trying to compose himself, he then began to speak.
How do I best describe it? It was like this...
Have you ever seen the movie “The Princess Bride”? Do you remember the minister in the film?
The Impressive Clergyman: Mawage. Mawage is wot bwings us togeder tooday. Mawage, that bwessed awangment, that dweam wifin a dweam...
[cut to Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik]
The Impressive Clergyman: And wuv, tru wuv, will fowow you foweva...
[cut to the trio again]
The Impressive Clergyman: So tweasure your wuv.
I’m serious. This is EXACTLY what he sounded like.
I couldn’t look over at Mrs. G., because I was deadly afraid I’d burst into laughter at any moment. (I also secretly hoped that Dread Pirate Roberts would show up, just to make things interesting.)
So from this point on, Robin and Robert were referred to as “Wobin and Wobbet.” (Well, almost. Keep reading, and I’ll explain.)
So the minister began his mini-wedding sermon, but told the oddest story. It started with this line:
“When your mawwiage gets stuck, get help.”
Huh? WTF does that mean?
He then proceeded to explain. When he was a young man, he and his brother had worked on a nearby farm. They took the tractor out one day, and got it stuck in the soft dirt. But instead of getting help, he tried backing it up and pulling forward, hoping to free it. Long story short (too late), he buried it up to its axle. So he and his brother went back to the barn, got a second tractor, and tried to use it to pull tractor #1 out. Even longer story short (again: too late), they buried that one too. Oops.
He then wrapped up the totally-unrelated-to-marriage analogy with “So when you get stuck in your mawwiage, get help. Amen.”
AMEN??? To THAT???
Okay, we’re moving on. They did the wings (sorry – I meant “rings”), they did their vows, and a lovely singer sang a Frank Sinatra song.
He then told the gwoom to kiss his bride. Everyone awwwed, and then clapped. All good.
The happy newlyweds then turned to face the audience/crowd/whatever we were, and the minister topped his strange wedding with this line:
“Wadies and Gentlemen, let me intwoduce Mister and Missus...”
Long pause.
“Uhhh...”
HE FORGOT THEIR NAMES!
The groom turns around and whispers “Robert”.
The minister smiles wide. “Oh, yeah – Mister and Missus Robert... Uh...”
HOLY CRAP – HE DID IT AGAIN!
By now just about everyone in the wedding party is yelling their names to the minister (while the rest of us laugh). And by golly – he does manage to get their last name out, too – eventually.
It was over – 17 minutes after it started. A weally, weally, stwange evening.
Later that evening at the reception, Robin came by and sat at our table for a minute. Here she was – a blushing bride, looking resplendent in her beautiful down, full of post-wedding bliss.
She looked across the table at Mrs. G. and I, smiled wide, and said, “He fucking forgot our names.”
She then got up, walked over to another table, and from the look on the faces there, I assume she said the same thing to them.
She did this for the next 5 minutes – going from table to table, staying about 30 seconds, and sharing a laugh about a ceremony they’ll never, ever forget. I know I won’t.
I really hope that someday you’ll see Wobin and Wobbet’s wedding video on “America’s Funniest Home Videos” – I’d vote for her to win the $100,000 bucks.
I just hope she won’t have to split any royalties to the producers of The Princess Bride.
Ain’t twue wove gwand?
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