I’ve been to a wedding where I and many others contracted COVID-19. I’ve been to a wedding where I banged my head on an ancient building’s low doorway, after which I spent the entire reception convinced I was concussed and would die in a hospital thousands of miles away from home. I’ve been to a wedding whose reception surprised many guests by not serving any food. I’ve been to a wedding where the only drinking water came out of a hose behind a barn, so I opened the spigot, bent over, and drank from it. I’ve been to a wedding that ended with my closest friends and I screaming at each other in the back of a hired minivan, its generous driver occasionally swiveling his head around to lighten the mood with unsolicited commentary. I’ve been to a wedding where guests were forced to endure the newlyweds being insulted by family members during two solid hours of unfathomably cruel speeches. I’ve been to a wedding where one half of the couple fell ill during the reception and went to the hospital, leaving their spouse behind to keep celebrating.Article continues after advertisement
I’ve been to several weddings that fundamentally changed everything I thought I knew about the couple getting married, some of which effectively became the endpoints of my friendships with them; no hard feelings, just a champagne drenched conclusion. But I’ve never been to a bad wedding, because, to me, there’s no such thing.
