Well, it's been a long time, but this weekend I am attending a wedding. Not just the reception. The whole shebang. (Wow! shebang really is a word. No red line appeared underneath it!). Being invited to the whole wedding kinda raises my status in my opinion. It kinda says I'm thought of a bit more than someone who only makes it to the reception. Practically family to be honest. Either that, or they were desperate to fill the places. And when Auntie Thelma's poodle couldn't make it because it's having it's toe nails clipped, I was in!
It probably also means that I should get them a better present than the hardly used bottle of washing up liquid and 2 for 1 haircut voucher for the salon that closed 3 years ago but hey, it's the thought that counts, isn't it?
And that brings me nicely on to gift list. Who on earth invented THAT? It's kinda like saying 'look, we can't trust you to go and buy us a decent present, (spot on in my case!) so here is a helpful list of things you might like to consider'. Nobody ever says, 'just bring yourselves, that'll be gift enough for us'.
At least these guys haven't got a gift list. Oh no. They've decided they just want cash. Cold hard cash. Bloody good call. I wish I'd have flipping thought of that at our wedding. I actually think it's a bloody clever way to get us to pay for the wedding. In fact, I am gonna adopt the same philosophy at my daughters wedding. I'll work out the total cost and divide it by the number of guests. As well as sending an invite, I'll send a bill. That's a bloody brilliant idea! I'd even take card payments!
Now, if said couple to be knew of my 'previous' at weddings, they would almost certainly uninvite me. Mmmm, (Yep, red line under THAT!) I wonder how that would work? I guess I'm gonna find out soon enough!
You see, it's only at times like these that the much beloved Mrs B really gets to remember what a true catch I am.
Which is precisely why she has requested to be seated at another table.
I fail to see her problem. I almost never heckle anymore. And the football kicks off well after the wedding bouquet has been thrown at me with a little TOO much force to be friendly. Although the rugby may well be on around the same time. Thanks goodness for headphones! (Note to self, shouting 'get in there my son' and 'tackle him you 'effing moron' in the house of god is probably not conducive to a happy afterlife).
And I now know that proper protocol is a short peck on the cheek when standing in line to congratulate the happy couple. NOT a full on snog. Well, not for the groom apparently. Who knew?
The bride by now is probably having kittens. Well, I'm the LEAST of her worries. I've seen the tie that S.H. is wearing (initials NOT changed to expose the guilty) and believe me, even if he does make it into the church wearing it, he'll be a smoldering ember by the 'I now pronounce you' bit.
But my biggest issues are at the dinner. I don't get out much, especially when it comes to eating in public. You see, cutlery confuses the life out of me. It's bad enough with just a knife, fork and spoon. Which is why I do virtually all of my eating with just a spoon when I'm at home.
But when faced with a myriad of Sheffield's finest, I'm totally beat. And at these big occasions, there's normally acres of the flipping stuff. Apparently, you are supposed to start from the outside and work your way in. That's fine, but I was at a dinner once where the seating arrangements were a little cozy. Well, we were all squashed together like my 'gentleman goodies' when my underwear was inadvertently tumble dried on gas mark 8 for 3 hours. And I ended up 'borrowing' the knife from the person sitting 4 places to my right.
Does anyone have a least favourite piece of cutlery? I do. The damn soup spoon. Bloody things. How DO you use one? I've tried the 'sip from the edge of it' approach. Except it's less of a sip, and more of a 'last bit of bathwater draining from the bath' sort of noise. And have you tried to put the whole thing in your mouth? Honestly, it would be more comfortable putting a wire brush connected to the mains in there. (Kids, please don't try this at home!)
And then there's the plates. Normally piled so flipping high, you have to look round them to talk to the person sitting opposite. Or hide behind them with embarrassment in poor Mrs B's case. One for each course? one for each food item more like!
Then there's the wine glasses. In this it seems, I am not alone. Which one is yours? Left, or right? I'm sure that gallons of wine is wasted at these gatherings because no bugger knows which wine glass is theirs. So rather than commit the ultimate social fop-ah and get it wrong, none of it gets drunk. And that's despite everyone looking at everyone else to see who drinks from what first.
But I have another issue when it comes to eating in the close proximity of others.
My elbows. The buggers stick out when I'm eating. How do people manage to tuck them in when sitting so close together? I have the wingspan of a flipping jumbo jet when I'm eating. Air traffic control have to arrange a no fly zone around me. I've got home from these social gatherings in the past to find wigs, spectacles and even false teeth hanging off my elbows!
And I know that despite my best efforts, I will spill something down me. Or the person sitting next to me. And the looks you get when you try to be helpful and wipe red wine from the pretty young lady's blouse. I probably should have used a napkin rather than my..............ahem, never mind!
Still, at least in the custody suite, nobody cares how you eat.
P.T.F.O.
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