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Rings on finger, sweat marks under control, we were called through to reception area. The food, like day, was immaculate. Disappointingly, reception was dry. I think I had uncovered some rum in cheesecake, but was far from break dancing when band came on. We respected family’s religion, and I mingled with guests discussing how smoothly day had run.
Suddenly, conversation quieted, and all attention turned to groom. I became very concerned why he had pulled what looked to be 3 to 4 sheets of handwritten paper from his pocket. Confused at how many people he could possibly have to toast, I pulled empty lining of my pockets to indicate how many sheets I didn’t have.
If looks could kill, I would have made a widow of his bride before he’d put down his punch. Hastily, I scribbled down some thoughts on a napkin, but knew it would take a miracle to pull this off.
50 minutes and 7 sheets of handwritten paper later, I was asked to take floor to a rapturous applause. All fruit punch in Florida couldn’t have stopped my mouth from drying up as I confronted room full of 200-strong unsuspecting guests, all thirsty for a good laugh.
I have chosen not to reiterate what was actually said that day. I have also chosen not to watch wedding video, or speak to groom again. If there was a spade to hand, I would have first struck groom with it, and then proceed to dig a hole large enough to climb in. But there wasn’t. What there was however, were coughs, sighs, and one heckle requesting that I “got on with it”, because that particular gentlemen didn’t have all day. This was of no comfort to me, nor were my words of any comfort to bride, groom, or anyone else. I will remain thankful however, to waitress who let out one solitary clap at end of my speech, and to inventor of hotel mini-bar.
I learned some valuable lessons that day. For one, Americans don’t understand northeastern accent, nor do they appreciate sarcastic comments in jest about a groom’s sexuality. But most important lesson learned that day, was to prepare and research for a speech. Not just your words, but also your audience. Until you do that, do not even consider mentioning time you discovered your best friend burping his worm over Yasmine Bleeth, unless your absolutely sure it will get a laugh.
Male, 24 new to the writing industry and looking to develop my cynical approach to the world.