On the day two people join together in holy matrimony in front of family and friends, the bridal party must never forget that it’s the god damn BRIDE’S day and whatever she says goes.
A last-minute switch in the order for who’s walking down the aisle? Done.
Is someone wearing too much makeup? Tone it down.
Asking people not to mention that she and her husband met online? Uh, sure.
Harry, the best man, didn’t get that last part.
Either he didn’t get it, or he was so drunk by the time the toast happened that he said the very thing he wasn’t supposed to say: COMPUTER.
My friend Ashley, the blushing bride, was very adamant about people not knowing they met online.
She told the bridal party, she told the groom. She specifically came over to our table at the reception to tell us guests not say anything.
“Tell people we met traveling!” she instructed.
We all wondered who exactly were we going to tell sitting at the “singles” table in the back of the room near the bathrooms.
But, she was the bride, and it was her day, so we said OK, you don’t want grandma knowing you used the interwebs to find your future husband FINE. Whatever.
We all minded our own business, and ate our dinner selections at the table in the corner. Near the bathrooms.
And we actually forgot about the Big Internet Secret until the bridal party gave their toasts.
DING DING DING!!! DING DING DING!!
Ah, wedding toasts. Meaningful and honest and from the heart.
But there are some things you don’t mention.
For example: “Remember that time in Puerto Rico when we picked up those two uh, well I guess they were prostitutes but I don’t remember paying.”
(I live for Adam Sandler movies)
Or: “I just want to say that the whole Sally-cheating-on-you-thing totally brought you two closer together!”
Also: Don’t mention things the bride specifically asks you not to. (Like that whole cheating thing.)
But, right out the gate, a very drunk Harry
at the Royal wedding stood up, glass in hand and looked at the newlywed couple.
“I juss want to say,” he said into the microphone. “That I was sitting RIGHT NEXT TO TOM when he first INSTANT MESSAGED Ashley.”
All of us at the “singles” table dropped our jaws. Grandma, in the front row, scratched her head.
Ashley gave Harry the most piercing SHUT THE EFF UP look I’d ever seen from her seat at the long table, but Harry continued.
“I said, ‘Do it! Do it, man! Instant message her! ASK FOR HER AGE/SEX/LOCATION!”
(Another rule for wedding toasts: don’t say the word “sex.” Ever.)
We all started laughing, but Ashley was MORTIFIED.
She stood up and ripped the microphone from his hands in front of everyone.
Harry stood there, confused.
Ashley passed it to the maid of honor, who was less drunk, and talked more about a soul’s recognition of its counterpart in another than the computer.
When drunk Harry sat down, the groom patted him on the back and tried to pretend like it was OK.
By the time the cake was cut, grandma had forgotten about whatever the hell an instant message was, but Ashley still gave Harry chilly looks during photos.
He spilled the beans after all, and she had specifically told him not to. Now, when thinking back on her beautiful wedding day, she’ll be forever reminded of the stupid speech her husband’s drunk friend offered up. Shithead.
“It’s OK,” we said. “No one cared. By the way, this cake is delicious.”
I don’t think that made her feel better.
Neither did the fact that every new person we met and danced with that night we asked, “Age? Sex? Location?” to, hilariously.
Ah, we couldn’t help it.
We were drunk.