“It was my very first friend to get married (a girl I’d known in high school). We were in our mid-20s, and it was a classic rom-com nightmare scenario where the groom had second thoughts the day of and just bolted. We all just milled around for a while not sure what to do. There were awful vibes — the bride’s mom was weeping hysterically. My friends and I were finally making our way to the exits, and the bride stopped us and said, ‘Where the fuck do you think you’re going? You guys are taking me out to a bar right this minute, and you’re gonna have to carry me out of there.'”
“So most of us young people did (there were a few stray aunts and uncles, along with a few of the groom’s relatives who were like, ‘He’s a little punk, anyway — you’re better off without him.’
We all got unfathomably drunk, sang karaoke, glasses were shattered, the bride hit on literally every man who was there, including me (though no one took her up on it — that would have been weird).
There were a rough few months in store for her afterward, but that ended up being one hell of a party. I can still feel the hangover a decade later.”