I fucking hate weddings…

28Mar09

Yes, I fucking hate weddings! I hate them with the same effing passion I normally reserve for motorcycle drivers.

Yes, this is going to be a long post.

I just got back home from the 2nd wedding I had to attend this month. Slow month I guess, on June/December season I usually go to two weddings a week. Yes, I go to a LOT of weddings, averaging at around 30/year.

This actually started when I got my driver’s license.  My dad can’t drive, and I’m the only one nice enough to drive him to weddings he has to attend. For the uninformed, the reason my dad gets invited to a lot of weddings is that in the chinese community in Manila, when one of your kids gets married, you invite everyone and their dog too.  It’s a chance to show off I guess. And once someone invites you to a wedding, you have to invite them to your kid’s wedding too. Everyone gets invited, even people you don’t really know, even people that just got a whiff of your fart.

I remember my sister’s wedding.  It was supposed to be a small wedding, because that was what my sister wanted.  It started out with 30 tables(yes, we count by the number of tables. Think of it as 1 table == 10pax) which eventually ballooned to 60 tables, which eventually ballooned by another 20 tables come wedding day.  I was going around saying hi to people I had no clue how I’m related to.  I actually got reprimanded by one of the guests for not giving her tea . YES I GOT MISTAKEN FOR A WAITER AT MY OWN SISTER’S  WEDDING!

I’ve been to enough weddings and I’m fucking tired of them.  So I’ve made a list of signs that you probably go to more weddings than what’s healthy:

• For the wedding proper, you automatically know what to wear (barong or suit) based on what church you’re going to.
• Upon entering the reception venue,  you have a strategic map of all the restrooms in your head.  This is very useful when you have to go for a happy landing and looking for a low traffic comfort room
• You have an escape, err excuse me, an exit route for when you have to leave early
• You play the game “is the bride … or she isn’t?”. you go to too many weddings, if start keeping a record of your batting average.
• You can identify the photographer/videographer from the pre-nup shots.  A worse variation of this is that all videos/presentations feels like deja vu
• You know how much the food you’re eating costs. You’ve actually memorized the menu and knows what got changed for what.
• The wedding coordinators say hi to you. Worse if they can automatically say if you’re there for the groom’s side or the bride’s side.
• Applies only to guys, your formal wear gets better mileage than your car (the suit I usually wear is at 2000/use. I’m hoping I could bring it down to below a thousand.)

So why do I hate weddings?  I’ll take this last wedding as an example.

The reception takes too freaking long! The invite says 7 and you feed me at 9 fucking pm. If you even call that feeding.  You gave me a fucking salad and you forget the dressing. Another 30 mins before the soup arrives, then you forget my fish! everyone around me is busy stuffing their mouth with food, and what do I have? my freaking table napkin. It would somehow do for now, if only you remembered my salad dressing.

Weddings are boring.  I don’t have any complaint if the wedding I’m attending is for someone I personally know.  But when I go with my dad, I SIT AT THE FREAKING OLD PEOPLE TABLE!  I don’t know anyone, or they’re too old for me to talk to. Then they start with the speeches. Daddy speeches, sister/brother speeches, friend’s speeches, those are ok.  But when they start to call some bigshot guest to give a speech, just to show off how “big time” they are? HELP ME!

Then there’s another torture.  Waiter puts down a bottle of alcohol in front of you. To make the boredom pass, nothing would beat taking a swig out of the bottle. But I can’t!!! fuck.  even taking a sniff out of the bottle was enough for me to get angry weird stares from my father. Followed by a “you’re driving” statement. Ok, no alcohol for me tonight.  Worse is that everyone around you is getting so fucking blasted.

BAD FOOD! yes the newlyweds are paying a huge amount for the food.  But I can’t help but think about food from the eng’g canteen when trying to swallow whatever was served.

The Questions. My features are distinctly my dad’s.  Anyone who knows my dad can easily tell that I’m his son without introduction.  My problem is that my dad is “friendly”.  A lot of people knows him.  So when I have to go to the restroom(with my carefully planned route), I get stopped at every other table.  What questions am I talking about? here’s a list:

• You’re *dad’s name*’s son right? — Yeah, here’s a star for you. Now let go of my fucking arm, I don’t even know you and I need to pee.
• Where do you go to school? — I sure do look my age, in fact I look older.  So are you somehow assuming that I’m stupid and haven’t graduated?
• From the previous, of course I answer that I’ve graduated. “Where do you work?”  — even if I tell you, you wouldn’t have a clue anyway
• if they DO know the company I work for the next question would be “I have a broken laptop/desktop/etc.  Do you think you can repair it for me?” or “I want an XX model laptop, do you think I can get a discount?”  — I DID NOT WASTE 4 YEARS OF COLLEGE + 6 YEARS OF EXPERIENCE  TO BE YOUR FUCKING REPAIR MAN! NOR AM I A FUCKING SALESMAN
• Next question “How much do you earn?” — None of your business.  How would you feel if I ask you how much YOU earn?

If they don’t ask questions they make some other statement.  Before, it was “you look so much like your dad!” Then followed by “how old are you?”, when I was younger the follow up statement was “I remember when you were small, now you’re a lot bigger! you need to go on a diet!”(look at the mirror first fatty).  Now that i’m older, it’s usually “are you married?”, I answer “no”.  it’s then followed by “you should be married! You have to meet my sister’s friend’s daughter’s bestfriend”.  DO I LOOK LIKE I”M LOOKING?!? Worse is that once you go back to your table, they’ve made it their personal mission to set you up with someone. They go follow you back to your table asking for your phone number or with an entire list of numbers for you.

YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING POLITE! even if the person with you on the table already had 3 rolls and on his way to his 4th(which happens to be the last) and you still haven’t gotten any. Or when that lady keeps bumping on your head on her way to make chismis.  Or that kid that makes it his personal mission to pass out from screaming too much.  YOU CAN”T DO ANYTHING! you have to be extremely polite.  You can’t risk offending anyone.  Believe me, these people have loooooong memories and they spread chismis like that guy was spreading butter on his rolls.

I can’t quite hate the garter game.  Not because I like joining it. But because, somehow I’ve always managed to gracefully exit the reception area just as the emcee starts calling the names of the people that needs to join.  I’ve only done it once and was lucky enough to get away or maybe unlucky, they gave  iPods to the couple that won.

Well not everything about weddings are bad. Here’s a couple of highlights from the wedding tonight:

• Hearing “You and Me” by Lifehouse played by a string quartet
• Seeing all those photography equipment *drool*
• Hearing “Butterfly Kisses” once again. I’ve forgotten about this song I think I’ll go pira… err buy it.
• Coffee  and cookies from Manila Hotel
• Maintaining my batting average. I won P100 from my dad for that one.  It’s not my fault I know how to look at wedding dresses. Must’ve been all those weddings he forced me to go to.

That’s pretty much it.  If you ever invite me to a wedding, make sure you seat me in the far corner away from people. Otherwise I might bite.

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