a sunday night wedding
Imagine this: you and your husband are invited to a wedding.
Despite the fact that the card delineates that the wedding is on a Sunday night at 7:30 pm, boxed gifts are not welcome, and the venue is at least an hour away, you send in your affirmative RSVP.
You secure an overpriced and underqualified babysitter. You get into a very scratchy Indian outfit. You make an admirable attempt with your makeup knowing full well that you’re risking an eye infection and/or a striking resemblance to a clown.
You battle the LA traffic and get to the event at a respectable 8:00 pm. You follow the signs to the banquet rooms. You find the appropriate one and do a double take because:
- There is nobody there to greet you – not even a member of the wedding party.
- There are no appetizers, there are no drinks.
- There is nowhere to sit because the absent wedding party apparently demanded the banquet hall sealed shut before they went MIA.
As the hours tick by you feel your blood pressure rising. How can a Sunday night wedding not start at a respectable hour? What have these people been doing all day long? Do they not have to go to work in the morning?
By 9:30 pm you’re starving and consequently even bitchier than usual. And that’s bitchy.
At 10:00 pm you’ve still eaten nothing, neither the bride nor the groom has made an appearance, and even your normally calm husband is irritated. So you grow a brain, grab your husband, and depart. And on the way home, as you fluctuate between anger and confusion, you insist you may never attend an Indian/Pakistani wedding on a Sunday night again.
PS: I took my non-boxed gift with me too.