Friday, April 4, 2008

A tough time to wed (Pt. 2)

So we had finally set our plans and picked our date (or rather, Marcie had bought tickets to Vegas and I had been happily ambushed). However, as could be expected, I wanted to protest a bit, modify the plans slightly, imprint the occasion with my own touch... BAD idea. Everything I said was taken wrongly.

"Maybe we should just get married here and then fly off to Vegas," I mused as we talked about the hotel to stay in and the attractions to sample.

"Well, where do you want to get married?" she said, her slightly higher voice sounding more like exasperation with room for compromise than frustration and anxiety.

"I don't know, just someplace local, I guess," I said.

She nodded and typed loudly on the keyboard, slapping it as she huffed. "How about Wedding Bell Chapel, the one my parents were married at?" she asked. "They just need us to have our marriage license and set an appointment. We can be married in San Diego and gone an hour later."

I thought about it and figured she was trying to be low-cost or modest. I wanted her to have a nice wedding, which I thought all girls wanted. As it turns out, I was way off, though I did not know it when I crossed the line and suggested something she was not willing to consider ever, at all: the big church wedding.

"Well, we can probably get into one of those one-day Catholic marriage classes and get married at Sacred Heart, if you want," I offered. "Then we can have a nice wedding. We won't have to pay for much, and everyone will be pretty good to us in my family..."

She glared up with her lips drawn and pressed together, then waited for me to explain myself. I did not know what to say. "What?" I asked.

"FRANK!? Are you stupid? The last thing I want is to talk to a priest about marrying the man i have been living with for seven fucking years," she said. "I don't want a big wedding, I don't want a big reception, I don't want any of that."

"Honey, I just thought you would want this to be special, and," I said, but shut up.

"I HATE weddings! I hate weddings and I will NEVER make anyone go through all the shit I did for my girlfriends' weddings," she said. "Everyone becomes this greedy, selfish monster and just craps all over their friends until they get their stupid day of attention from everyone and collect their loot."

I began to agree with her and put my hands up to calm her down, but she slapped them away before I could hug her.

"I don't know how many times I told you what HELL it was to be everyone's maid of honor, BLAH BLAH!" she said. "Sure, you are the maid of honor, pay out the ass and then 'Whoosh!' off to the honeymoon they go, never to be heard from until they get bored with being someone's wife."

"I'm sorry, I did not think you felt that way about your own wedding, honey," I said.

"Whatever," she said. "If you are so stuck on being in a big wedding and having your herd of family members dropping off their tribute for your father's approval, then we can just not get married. How does that sound?"

She did not wait for me to reply, but stomped out of the room and grabbed her purse. She did not say where she was going, but she drove off as I asked, stamping and cussing me out under her breath.

I was bewildered. But we were just getting started.