Wedding + Stain = Good Time?

How was your weekend? Mine was a bit of a ride. Left Friday morning to go to my cousin’s wedding out of state, and didn’t get back until Sunday afternoon.

Actually checking into the place was a task because it was like a giant maze with sidewalks leading everywhere–took me a while to actually find the front door. The room was nice, too, even though the brickwork reminded me of a subway or something. There was also another wedding scheduled for the same weekend as the one we were going to.

And I thought it was pretty weird that they had a couch and chairs facing the pool, from behind glass.

Anyway, We went to browse around the rehearsal dinner for “our” wedding, even though we weren’t technically invited to that, because none of us were in the wedding at all. I was impressed by the bride laying out everything that was going to happen, with all the backups for wet weather and all that. Turns out she’s a certified party planner, so that was cool. And I had no trouble realizing why my cousin decided to marry this girl.

The morning after that, about an hour before the wedding, I found out my blue dress shirt had a giant one-foot stain on the bicep area, and any spares were about 100 miles away (and I’d picked this shirt after rejecting two others that were stained one way or other). I hadn’t think to check the arm, and wore the thing anyway (I’m not sure me in an undershirt and tie would have been the ticket here).

Because of the rain and spongy ground, the ceremony was held inside. I wasn’t really sure, but I thought the best man fumbled the rings a little, but that’s the thing–no one got upset about it or anything like that.

The preacher who performed the ceremony was a laugh riot. There were serious parts too, though, like when he encouraged the couple to put the other’s needs before their own, and what-have-ya.

One minute, he’s talking about three-fold cords and then he tells the bride “and when you need clean clothes, he’ll wash them for you. They won’t be folded, but at least they’ll be clean.”

How do I say this…it wasn’t too serious, and I’m pretty sure that’s how everyone liked it.

The couple had two bean bag toss game boards for everyone to sign, which was nice. The music was cranking, and the speeches (and glow sticks) were really fun–especially the slide show the bride’s twin sister did about the couple.

A cousin of mine gave me a Tide pen to help work out the stain on the arm of my shirt, but it ran out of juice before I was halfway done. It did a lot of good work though.

After a dance or two and stuffing ourselves with awesome cake, we left around quarter to 11. I guess there was some commotion by the bar area, but I didn’t know what it was about.

The next day, the groom’s mom told us that people from the other wedding had popped in for a drink, uninvited-like. I’m only saying that because I didn’t have a clue what was going on, and either we left before the good stuff happened, or before the bad stuff, however you look at it.

And they did sign the board and said they had a nice time.

Anyway, what’s my point–minus the uninvited booze-drinkers?

A wedding is meant to be one of the best experiences people can ever have. And I think that we should enjoy them while we can, because it seems to me there are too few good experiences nowadays that are like that.

Which is why, as writers, I think a lot of us aim to create good experiences for readers. Or leave them better than they were before. That’s really the goal of all good fiction and copy (that, and actually selling what you’ve written, or selling a product/service using what you’ve written, if that’s what you want to do with it).

But that’s what connection is all about.

Until next time,



About Ty Mall

Thanks for stopping by. I've almost always been interested in writing, among other things. Along with discovering pop culture, I've uncovered a lot about the craft over the past 10 years. And whether you're a fiction writer or email copywriter, I'm here to pass on what I've found out. And have a ton of fun in the process.
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