Today I attended the wedding of a male colleague. I went out of obligation rather than free will, as did my three other colleagues. The gentleman who married is a kind hearted fellow, a little dorky, but he means well. However, we think he married a total wingnut or winky, a euphemism one of my friends uses to describe the two cups of crazy that is the fiance.
We have overheard (even when trying desperately not to) multiple daily phone calls throughout the courtship and then the engagement. Most of the time we were unsure if the gentleman was her betrothed or the police negotiator trying to talk the young woman out of jumping off the edge. In addition, there were the ridiculous demands placed upon our male colleague, that made us, his “work wives”, cringe with embarrassment for the female sex. [i.e. Work wives -- all the nagging without the benefits]
Needless to say we were expecting quite the spectacle of a wedding day, full of tantrums and fruit loops. And we, the mean girls, were ready to mock the event mercilessly from beginning to end. We were positively frothing over the potential fodder we were to be fed … only to find there was none.
Okay, there were a few items, but they were too easy to pick on – not worth the effort on our part really. But I will say the part of the minister on that day was played by Doogie Howser. Nuff said.
