Gluttony: A story of wedded bliss and revenge

Y’all petty.

Thanks to all who participated in the Instagram poll to choose this topic. I’m delighted that you’re so interested in petty revenge. And now, our feature presentation.

We did it! Over one full year into marriage and I feel as lucky as the day my (then) fiance said “yes!” I can still feel the anticipation of our wedding events – so much excitement to see our family and friends gathered in one place to celebrate our love. The stories from that weekend continue to echo and keep the images crisp in my otherwise sparse memory. What an event it was! From the warm (but not too warm) June weather, to the masterful officiant, to the food and entertainment, we could not have asked for much more to encapsulate such a joyous occasion.

I can honestly say that I struggle to think of one negative memory from our wedding day. But struggle I have, and there’s something I think we need to discuss. Let me paint a picture.

There I stood, next to my brothers and best friends, the bridesmaids a gorgeous mirror image, my wife floating down the aisle, through a sea of loved-ones. Hand-in-hand we shared laughs, memories, vows and a kiss. Before we knew it, boom: matrimony. An hour’s recess felt like minutes to us. As the photographer captured family portraits, our guests shared merriment over live entertainment – hors d’oeuvres poppin’, drinks a-flowin’. We concluded our photo-shoot with just enough time for a few brief conversations, a couple nibbles of cheese and the final song from our performers. Then, like clockwork: first dance, daddy-daughter dance, mom-groom dance – couldn’t have taken 15 minutes, as we’d planned.

Then, just as my new wife and I sat down to eat, we received the news. I swear our caterer must have had my chair wired or something because when I tell you that she showed up just as my buttocks pressed upon the seat, I mean it was the moment I knew for sure that magic was real as I’d just witnessed with mine own eye an exercise in teleportation. Now, I’m sure that her actual words were tactful, compassionate and elegant, however, what I heard her say was: “These mu’fkas done drunk up all the red wine!”

In what was a testament to the years we’d already spent getting in tune with each other’s feelings, my wife and I, over a matter of split seconds, proceeded to have a full conversation with each other using only our eyes.

Wife: “What this bitch just say?”

Me: “Wine gone.”

Wife: “The fuck it ain’t!”

Me: “I know, right?”

Wife: “We bought more than they recommended for a party this size!”

Me: “…”

Wife: “Of all the disrespectful, unappreciative, gluttonous…”

Me: “Dear…”

Wife: “…greedy, lush-ass, thirsty, no-home-training-having…”

“Did you want to buy another case?” the caterer interrupted.

“Keep the party going” We advised.

Y’all, I’m not mad. I’m not mad. I just wish someone had told me what the etiquette was for these types of events. Had I known that the agenda was to drink the newlyweds out of house and home, I would’ve saved myself the shock and horror and just purchased the entire winery in advance.

Now I know what you’re thinking: “Is this petty so-and-so really complaining about his friends and family drinking at an open-bar event?”

I mean… yeah – kind of. But what I’m really trying to do is twofold.

The first is a warning:

Please be warned: If you invite me to your wedding, I’m throwing everything I’ve got at your bar situation. I’m doing a ‘Rocky’ style training montage for my liver the week before your event just so I can consume more than I normally can. I’m going to make an announcement at the (open) bar as often as I can that I’m buying a round of drinks just so people laugh at my corny joke and maybe one or two people who weren’t thinking about getting another drink in that moment decide to do so. I will get the same drink as someone else at my table, drink it down to the level theirs is and place my glass right next to theirs so they can’t determine which is which and maybe just decide to get another to avoid the confusion. I’m sorry to be so petty but after the unexpected trauma I’ve experienced, I feel I’m owed reparations. Also, if you have a cash bar at your wedding, I’m not interested. I wish you well and everything but I just can’t waste my time not repaying the travesties brought upon my family.

The second thing I’d like to do is to establish a directive to the unwed and soon to be wed:

If and when you get married, the people you love and trust will attempt to systematically ruin your financial future one, two or three drinks at a time. This cannot be avoided. I’m giving you the warning that I wish someone had given me a long time ago, along with this advice: build up some equity. You owe it to your future selves to absolutely decimate every wedding reception bar you encounter. I implore you to launch a blitzkrieg upon the hospitality of your most beloved compatriots. Show no mercy, no empathy and harbor no regret once the deed is done. That way, when your time comes, you can honestly say to yourself: “Yeah… I deserved that.”  

And if you are already married and have befallen the same injustices I have, it’s time to get your payback. We shall be victims no longer! I’ll see you at the bar.

One thought on “Gluttony: A story of wedded bliss and revenge

  1. Pingback: Review: Stretchy Denim | True Jest

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