What are you doing New Year’s Eve? Part II

When last we left the wedding, Kevin had completed his Best Man duties with aplomb and followed the newlyweds as they scampered hand in hand down the aisle.  Their scamper was a short one,  given that the aisle ended at the luncheon tables the caterers had been setting up during the ceremony.  (The smell of roast chicken will always remind them of their wedding vows, which I suspect was all part of the mother of the bride’s evil plan.)

With the newlyweds standing slightly awkwardly at the end of the aisle, the minister instructed us to queue up to congratulate them. Half of us were still waiting in the reception line when he told us to report immediately to the beverage table to obtain a drink for the toast.

Our toasting “drink” turned out to be the sweetest Kool Aid I have ever had — and that’s saying something, given that I survived many a childhood summer in South Dakota.

After another five minutes, we were told it was time for lunch.

“No toast?” I asked Kevin hopefully, wondering how many rot-free years the beverage had already shaved off my teeth.

Kevin shrugged, which is code for “Hold your sugar water, woman.”

So we filled our plates with a variety of free food, which included what the woman ahead of us in line referred to as “Nuptial Jello.” We’d just sat down when our by now harried-looking emcee came over and whispered, “The bride and groom are making this up as they go along–” [I gasped in mock surprise and Kevin gave me the stink eye] “–and they would like Kevin to make a toast after the music.”

All this and entertainment, too!

After a young lady with a nice, if a bit churchy, voice had performed a few songs, a gentleman took the stage.  I recognized him as the elderly Chinese man who frightened me in the hall.  Confused no more, he had the unmistakable bearing of a Family Patriarch in his element, but just in case anyone was fuzzy on that, he opened with, “When Roger came to me to ask if he could marry my sister Pru…”

What followed was his interpretation of Bette Midler’s “The Rose.”

You know that scene from the movie “A Christmas Story” where the family goes out for dinner on Christmas and get serenaded by the Chinese waiters? “Deck da halls with boughs of hah-ry! Fa rah rah rah rah rah rah rah rah!” It was more or less exactly like that.  And you know that high note at “Some say ROVE! It is a hunger…” Well, he couldn’t quite make it but he tried really hard.  Yet the song was so heartfelt that everyone was pretty riveted and he got a huge round of genuine applause when he finished.

Just after the last petal fell, Kevin was summoned up front to give his Best Man toast. It was very good - or at least we think it was. We couldn’t hear it because he didn’t use the microphone until he was mostly done. When he finally did speak into the mic, we got the Reader’s Digest version, which went a little something like this:

“….Well, I was just babbling about how I met Roger. Just to cut this short, I wish him and Pru a very happy life together.”

His applause was a little less enthusiastic but everyone knew his heart was in the right place.

The groom’s brother also gave a toast, which we also couldn’t hear, this time due to the half-dozen children that were running amok on the stage screaming yah! yah! yah! as children are wont to do when they are all dressed up with no place to go ruin their clothes.  At one point there was a loud, rhythmic BANG! BANG! BANG! and I nearly had a heart attack.  Turned out one of the little geniuses had found a basketball (in a gym? no way!) and it was careening its way down the aisle toward a camera set up on a tripod.  Mommy finally appeared and subdued both child and ball; I guess it’s only fun until something really fucking expensive gets hurt.

Charred toast was followed by about ten minutes of dancing, which nobody did except the bride and groom. I am sure that’s because they are awesome ballroom dancers (that’s how they met) and nobody was going to volunteer to look like the Scarecrow from Oz by comparison.

After a while, when there were no more whispered obligations or runaway basketballs, I started to relax.  The end was surely nigh! I swigged my sugar water and ate my Jello with gusto. Which of course is precisely when a photographer hauled my ass up on to the stage with the rest of the “wedding party.”

Naturally, he had me stand right beside Pru in most of the pictures.  So now the poor bride is stuck with wedding photos featuring some girl she doesn’t know from Adam with a red Kool Aid mustache and blue Jello in her teeth.

Shortly after the photo session, Kevin and I went back to our table to plot our escape. “We must be stealthy so they are not insulted,” I hissed. “They mustn’t see us.  Leaving before the newlyweds do is considered very rude!”

Just then the Patriarch booted us out of our chairs so he could remove their decorations and cram them into a garbage bag.

“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” said Kevin.