Wedding Manners

My buddy Chris got engaged yesterday. He was really hungover from St. Patty’s day with his girl and he said, “If I can stand a hangover and all the bullshit she’s thrown my way for the last four years… I should marry her.” He proposed without a ring, at the kitchen table, while the two of them were drinking coffee and popping aspirin.

If that ain’t a love story, I don’t know what is.

He asked Zach and Sam to be his groomsmen (I think Chris is going to ask his brother to be his best man). And then the groom put some conditions on my being able to attend the wedding. I’m pretty sure the terms came from his wet blanket of a fiancee, but whatever.

Chris: Jess, if you wanna come to my wedding you have to graduate from an etiquette class.

Me: …fuck you. I’ll mourn the end of your bachelorhood with a drink with the barkeep. NAKED. BUTT FUCKING NAKED.

Zach: Sorry, man. If Jess is naked at a bar, I gotta be there. No wedding for me neither.

Camaraderie at its finest.

Besides, I’ve been to charm school. My bloodline may go back to the Celts and Mongol horde, but I know how to be a darling when it matters.

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