For Whom The Wedding Bells Toll

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I stood in front of the pious place and debated whether or not to enter. Did I really want to be a part of this wedding? Overhead, the church bells interrupted my internal struggle as they began their melodious chiming. Some think of this matrimonial sound as wedding rings that herald the beginning of new life. Others refer to these clangs as death tolls for the lives of two innocent people. Kind of like a funeral where the couple get to smell their own flowers. I'm inclined to agree with the second group since I know a little about this wedding couple. In fact, the usher confirmed my worst suspicions when he greeted me with, "Bride's side or Groom's?" Oh great! They're not even married yet and already I have to choose sides! I picked the balcony.

The ceremony wasn't too bad. There wasn't a dry eye in the house. Mainly because of an overpowering aroma --- a cross between body oder and rotten onions. Though they might be next to godliness sitting in their pews, this crowd needed a few showers before they reached the cleanliness level. Fortunately, the ceremony was quick. The preacher stood in front of the nervous couple and simply asked the blushing bride, "Do you?" She blushed not because of the intimacy of the question but because of her dress. It was a few sizes too small and had started to give up on its herculean task of covering her body. Starting as a tiny tear behind her neckline, the immaculately white dress began ripping ever so slowly down her back. All we could do was watched in stunned silence. It reminded me of the way an icy crack would creep down the side of a glacier. We could hear the high pitch ping as threads snapped one by one in a deliberate, meandering fashion. The bride, feeling this agonizingly slow break away of her dress, quickly answered the preacher, "I do! I DO!" This anxious outburst must have touched her husband-to-be very deeply. For he gazed longingly, lovingly into her panic stricken eyes and said ever so romantically, "Ditto!". The bride then grabbed the groom, the rings, a quick kiss, the back of her dress and dashed to the church basement for the festivities.

The reception was lousy. But what do you expect from an old 13 inch, black-and-white television that sits in a church basement using a coat hanger antenna? However, this didn't stop the children from watching a local PBS station --- which didn't please the father of bride. "Turn off that dang TV!" he bellowed, "This ain't no time for learnin'!" What a great motto for this wedding. I almost wished they had added it to the fine invitation that I received; an invitation that had been painstakingly hand-written in crayon. As for the wedding reception, it was on par with the TV's reception --- very flaky. This group had a strong dislike for anything that wasn't American. This meant no Swedish meatballs and French bread for the buffet. They used paper plates instead of the good china because they passionately felt there was nothing good about China. These were slices of American cheese. Someone even brought a few neutral vegetables such as very old broccoli and ... dip. What is the next stage after sour cream? You know, there's cream, then sour cream. But what's that next stage when sour cream has progressed to coagulated chunks and green flakes that aren't necessarily parsley? That's what they had for dip.

Soon, the bride, now with her dress held together by a couple of safety pins, announced that she and her new husband were ready to leave. We stepped outside into the fresh air and filed along the pathway between the church and their get-away car. I don't remember too much because I was concentrating on filling my lungs with as much clean air as possible. I do recall that most of the guests were clapping as the newlyweds walked along the path. Those who weren't slapping their hands together, were holding bags full of rice. Since the bride wasn't pregnant, it wasn't puffed rice. Just the regular stuff. Those guests would reach inside their bag, pull out a handful of rice and toss it straight into ... their mouths as though it was popcorn. So I can tell you that no birds died from thrown rice. Unfortunately, the bride jumped into the car. This is unfortunate because one safety pin couldn't take the strain any longer, shot off from her dress and skewered a bird as it happened to fly by. So much for 'safety' in 'safety pin'. This innocent creature of the air arced gracefully in its final flight and headed for the crowd. You would have thought that the bird had become part of the ceremony as the men, fresh from the recent hunting season, began scrambling to catch the bird. I'm not sure which lucky fella caught the bouquet bird. At this point, I passed out from hyperventilating. As I laid on the ground, listening to the ringing in my ears that wasn't from church bells, I looked up and realized something very important. I was at the wrong church. No wonder I didn't recognize anyone. Perhaps I was wrong about the church bells. Perhaps there's hope for this couple after all. But then again this was a fairytale wedding --- very Grimm.