(A note from me)
Hey!
Hope you’re having a great week so far.
I’ve been working on another story, but it’s not finished yet and I wanted to send something your way. I decided focus on one of the more…entertaining aspects of my wedding.
It’s one of those stories I don’t think many who were in my wedding party or attended the wedding know about. But there are always little nuggets of gold to dig out of even the biggest failures.
Have a great rest of the week! I look forward to sending you more goodies in the days to come.
Your friend,
Greyson
I Was Almost Kicked Out Of My Own Wedding
“I need to tell you something.”
The photographer motioned for me to follow her off to the side of the room.
Music bumping, friends laughing, most everyone dancing, I had to lean in to hear the photographer.
“People from other weddings are coming in and ordering drinks.”
The Amway Grand Hotel in downtown Grand Rapids contained multiple ballrooms. All other ballrooms were occupied. September Saturdays were popular wedding days.
The photographer, an adorable woman my now-wife fell in love with upon meeting to go over her portfolio, brought up an image on her camera’s rear screen. Sure enough, several men in tuxes and maroon cummerbunds were grabbing cocktails.
I didn’t know what bothered me the most. Them ordering drinks on my dime, or the cummerbunds.
I needed to put a stop to it. If other weddings wanted to go cheap and not offer adult beverages that was their call. Friends from all over the country came to my nuptials. I wanted to at least thank them with a fully open bar, spirits and all.
“Thanks for letting me know,” I told the photographer. A photographer whose images of myself and my wife made national wedding magazines. Ironically the publications came out after my divorce. Nothing like receiving emails regarding national posts and reception bar-tab payment notifications after the marriage ended.
But I didn’t know any of that at the time. I did know other wedding parties were helping themselves and I needed to put a stop to it.
Locking eyes with my best man I nodded his way.
“What’s up?” He could tell something was wrong.
“We have a situation.”
The Situation Gets Bigger
On the way to the next ballroom, I filled my best man in on the situation. As someone who had paid out-of-pocket for his wedding, the idea of not only wedding crashers but wedding crashes from another wedding pumped fire behind his eyes. That and whatever alcohol he had consumed up to this point (we were well into the reception).
Now, my best man isn’t a large man. Or a strong man. He’s a great man and a better friend, but he’s a slender noodle with a laid-back personality. He’s essentially Bob from Bob’s Burgers.
We didn’t need to go far to find the right wedding party. Nobody else rocked maroon cummerbunds. Inside the lights were dim in the large ballroom. To set the mood for dancing, but the music lacked any kind of motivation for those on the fence. I couldn’t see any bartender, but next to the door sat a long table filled with personal bottles of table wine, a photograph of the bride and groom as the label.
Things were starting to make more sense.
“Could I talk to the groom?” I asked someone. Not sure who, but the groom momentarily materialized.
“Listen, I hate to step in or anything, but some of your wedding party are getting drinks from my reception. Is there any chance you could ask them not to?”
“No, they’re not!” The groom said, furrowed brow and scowled mouth both directed at me. “So get back to your own thing.”
“Okay, so maybe they aren’t,” I knew it was them, but the other groom already seemed on edge and I didn’t want to elevate anything. “But could you just mention it to them? I’d appreciate it.”
“I ain’t saying shit. You need to get out now!”
“What’s the problem!?” Someone asked behind the groom.
“This guy’s saying we’re getting drinks from his reception!?”
“Listen,” things were getting out of control quickly. “My photographer caught several people from this wedding getting drinks. I’m just asking for you to mention it so it doesn’t happen anymore.”
“Screw this guy! Go get security!”
The second guy threw open the door and left.
CLINK! CLIIIIINK!!
“I’ll fucking do it!”
I turn. My best man had his hands under the table full of wine bottles, threatening to flip the entire display. His arms quivered under the weight, but nothing like the quivering bottles on the table. The glass clinking. Shifting. One slid against the wall.
The other groom’s eyes blew open.
“He asked you nicely! We all know you're getting the drinks! So apologize to the man, make the damn announcement, or I’ll turn your table wine into floor wine!”
Silence.
I’m sure music continued to play but none of us heard it. At least I didn’t. The other groom moved slowly, hands out as if being robbed at gun-point while also dealing with disarming a bomb.
“Okay, okay yeah, that was us. And I’ll make sure they stop.”
My best man relaxed his arms. The bottles stilled.
“Wasn’t so hard now, was it?” My best man, practicing attorney by day, said. He turned to leave just as the door to the ballroom opened. The other guy, with a security guard.
“There seem to be a problem?” the guard asked.
“No, no, everything’s cool,” the other groom said. The guard gave the man who fetched him a rolling eye as he left.
“Here. Take one,” the other groom picked up a bottle of wine and handed it in my direction. The bride and groom wore matching jeans and turtleneck sweaters. They were in a field.
“No thanks,” I told the groom and left with my best man.
Nobody else came to help themselves to drinks that night.
In Hindsight
My marriage lasted a grand total of six months. The whys and the whats and the whens are documented in other stories (and future stories to come, I’m sure). But there are certain points of time, certain instances that still make me laugh and smile fondly.
Seeing my best man threatening to throw over an entire table of wine remains near the top. Partially because it’s so out of character for such a laid-back individual who’s pretty chill in the moment. Like Mr. Rogers cackling menacingly while dropping a piranha into his goldfish tank.
The other part is something inside of me wishes he had flipped it. Heck, the marriage didn’t last, but we would have had a beyond nuts reception story.
It just goes to show you, even when things don’t work out, there are still moments in time that will bring smiles to your face.
It also pays to hire a solid photographer.
That is funny!