July 15, 2011 by Kat Richter
Today I’m going to a wedding. Not my own, obviously, but that of my former babysitter/art teacher/next door neighbor. I have mixed feelings about this wedding, not because I have any doubt that the couple in question will be very happy together, but because I’m egocentric-to-a-fault even at the best of the times and seeing as I’ve just lost my wingman, this is not the best of times.
The entire Richter clan was invited to this wedding, including Landlord, Chauffer and Tech Support. Tech Support, aka my younger brother, was supposed to be my partner in crime for the evening but due to an unexpected turn of events, his boss is sending him out of town for the weekend.
There are few things I hate more in life than flying solo at a friend’s wedding. In fact, flying solo amidst a sea of happy and soon-to-be-happy couples ranks right up there with my hatred of pigeons, zucchini, eggplant, eggplant disguised to look like something else and tourists who walk four-abreast on the sidewalk.
Needless to say, I’m feeling a bit apprehensive about today’s nuptials.
And not without good reason—I’ve experienced some true disasters— but in the spirit of today’s festivities, I’m not going to dwell on the numerous weddings I’ve attended over the years and the associated meltdowns I’ve had in various hotel rooms across the country. I’m going to focus on the future.
In particular my wedding, and the provisions I’m going to make for any and all singletons in attendance.
Firstly, I’m going to have a table specifically for singles and it’s going to be a good table— the sort where you can see and be seen—right near the bar, not all the way in back of the room where people always dump the distant relatives they don’t particularly care for.
Secondly, I’m going to provide each of my single guests with a clear yet discreet marker to designate them as such. Not one of those tacky “Hello My Name is…” badges, but something classy like a corsage or a nosegay—something that will make the other guests say “How did they get those? They must be SPECIAL!”—this way they can identify other singles with confidence and certainty and approach them secure in the knowledge that they are indeed legitimately available.
Of course, in order to avoid drawing attention to the corsage-wearing singles, I may have to issue all of my guests corsages but they’ll be color-coded, kind of like the T-shirts you wear to the traffic light bops I first encountered during my student days in the UK (red for “Sorry, I’m taken,” orange for “It’s complicated” and green for “SINGLE and ready to MINGLE!”) I’ll have to figure out a way to make the color-coding a little less obvious, and I may have to re-think to the code itself depending on my own color scheme but I’ve got time; I’ll figure it out.
(Then again, maybe I should just ask all my single guests to dress like this?)
I’m also going to give my single guests good favors—likes subscriptions to Match.com—because seriously, how’s a bunch of tulle and a handful of Jordan almonds going to help the situation? I like Jordan almonds as much as the next person (probably even more so) but singles need companionship, not calories.
Maybe I’ll set up a game of Twister too, and possibly a hot tub, this way the singles will have something to do when it’s time for another slow song.
And on that note, it’s time for me to get serious and get dressed. I’ll miss you, Tech Support, bit I will solider on (and if you are nice to me, I will possibly save you some almonds).